


Future Earth, Future Sky

by Inky



Category: Free!
Genre: Canon Continuation, Haru is ace, M/M, Not about rebound relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-27
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-02-19 00:32:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 57
Words: 250,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2367680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inky/pseuds/Inky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Makoto Tachibana laid his eyes on Sousuke Yamazaki was the day they had the relay race at the Splash Fest!, and it wasn’t anything special.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I've done it, I've jumped on the 'MAKOTO IN COLLEGE' bandwagon and here I am writing a fic about a big dumb puppy dog and a broody bara. Originally I planned to write HaruMako, but let's just say I didn't expect the ending of Free! Eternal Summer to be as happy as it was, and it obliterated THAT dumb idea. Then I realized that Sousuke and Makoto never had canon interaction, and that was a poor choice on Free!'s part, because people like me are now free for artistic interpretations. I thought the SouMako fandom was in desperate need of some more fanfictions, because the ~200 fanfictions compared to the ~1600 in the HaruMako tag was just pitiful.
> 
> In all seriousness, this fanfiction will be a long one, so strap in. Updates will happen relatively fast for the first few chapters, then level out as they usually do. I will keep y'all updated on my blog if something happens that will delay updates. Here is my [personal blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com), where I post a lot of anime because I'm anime trash. If you're not interested in following, no worries! The official tag for Future Earth, Future Sky will be [here](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky). The official tag for UPDATES ONLY will be [here](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Official cover art by [Lexy](https://tatsudai.tumblr.com)!

\---

* * * * * * * * *

\---

The first time Makoto Tachibana laid his eyes on Sousuke Yamazaki was the day they had the relay race at the _Splash Fest!_ , and it wasn’t anything special. He’s a smart guy; he put two and two together and figured he was one of Rin’s friends. That was really all he had time to think about before he sensed the tension between Yamazaki and Haru, so he made his introduction quick and herded Haru out of sight.

He knew something was up when Haru came back later with a water bottle to share. He had been quiet and brooding, more so than usual. However, he still swam hard in the relay, so Makoto figured not everything has to be a Big Huge Deal with his best friend and didn’t question it. The relay ended up going well and he forgot about the unsettling feeling in his gut after having dinner at Haru’s place.

Since then, he had had very little or no contact with Rin’s mysterious friend. His focus was mainly on Haru, carefully monitoring how the eccentric swimmer decided to handle his future. He mainly wondered whether or not he was going to decide to go into swimming professionally and follow Rin into the Olympic world. He really didn’t mind either way; Haru is Haru and if he wanted to be a chef or a coach or an artist, Makoto would just be happy that he made a decision and wasn’t so lost and afraid. Such is the life of a natural big brother. This year, the only real time he had to himself to decide things for his own future was when he helped Coach Sasabe with the kids at the swimming center, where he was able to truly hone in on where his talents and interests lie.

This pattern of events went on and on and on, Makoto focusing on Haru’s and his own futures (mostly Haru’s) and preparing himself to drop the truth bomb on Haru about his plans to study in Tokyo. But that was for another time. Regionals came and went; they won and moved on to nationals. He was shocked by the state of Yamazaki’s shoulder right before the relay at regionals, but Haru was quick to dispel the fear and allow Makoto to re-focus his concentration on their own race. After all, this was a situation for _Rin_ , not Makoto, to handle. Besides, trouble was brewing with Haru at that point.

He probably should’ve seen Haru’s blowup at the fireworks coming. And telling his best friend that, after being hooked at the hip nearly their whole lives, he was leaving for Tokyo was probably a bad thing to do so bluntly. It’s an expensive, long trip from Iwatobi. Of course Haru would be upset. Of course he would run away. Makoto expected this much. He didn’t expect him to run off to Australia with a certain fiery-haired, shark-toothed boy named Matsuoka God Damn Rin. Yeah, he was angry about it. He’d never let Haru know, though. At the end of the day, he was just glad he came home safely. And honestly, all of the anger was gone the moment he saw his neat, black hair bobbing through the crowd at the airport.

Ultimately, Makoto never got the chance to properly introduce himself to Yamazaki. There were just too many things on his plate, and he was sure there were things on Yamazaki’s plate as well. He never really regretted it, either, and knew nothing of the drama that had taken place between him and Rin over the course of their third year in high school. In fact, Makoto probably could’ve lived the rest of his life not knowing who Yamazaki Sousuke was.

However, fate had different plans.

\---

Makoto Tachibana, age eighteen and a half, bites petulantly on the eraser of his pencil as he ponders the notes he just wrote down. It’s his second week of classes and the first quarter of pages in his English notebook are already carved up with notes. He expected a university in Tokyo to be intense, but not _this_ intense. His heart pounds against his ribcage as he hastily jots notes from the PowerPoint down before the professor flips to the next one and—

He misses the bottom two lines of notes. Inwardly groaning, Makoto gets to work on the next slide and prays that he’ll be able to read his feverishly scrawled chicken scratching later on when he reads the text and goes over his notes for the day. He can’t help but feel a little bitter about the subject. He already took it in high school, why is it a required entry-level course here? And of course it had to be English, his least favorite subject. Well, at least art isn’t on the list of courses he has to take before he can graduate.

The class ends fifteen minutes early and Makoto couldn’t be happier. It’s finally time for the first day of Introduction to Anatomy. When he chose his courses for his first semester of university, he was able to squeeze in a course that would go towards completing his major. He was able to find one that suited his desire to become a swimming coach, a major in Physical Education Teaching and Coaching. He had a choice between Introduction to Anatomy and Introduction to Yoga Instruction, which was an easy decision in and of itself. Makoto’s big body isn’t limber or flexible, and yoga would just end up being a big embarrassment for him.

Due to a family emergency, the anatomy professor couldn’t make the first week of classes, thus postponing the first day until the second week. Makoto has been eagerly waiting for this day since school started, desperately wanting to make connections as soon as possible in hopes of getting to know other future coaches in the department. The class is in the science building, which is a short walk from the foreign languages and literature building. Every step towards the science building has Makoto more and more anxious. In fact, by the time he’s in the building and outside the door to his classroom, the bridge of his nose is sweating, causing his glasses to slip down. He adjusts his spectacles before running a hand through his sandy brown hair and making sure nothing is on his nice red, plaid shirt. Licking his lips, Makoto reaches out to grab the door and swings it open.

The lecture hall is larger than any other classroom Makoto has been in thus far. It also looks to be newer, with indented sound panels on the walls designed to help the professor’s voice travel all the way to the back. A couple students are already here and are either playing on their phones or staring vacantly into space. Ah yes, the university atmosphere. Makoto grins goofily to himself, gets self conscious of his own smile, and then keeps his head down as he walks briskly down the slanted aisle. He chooses a row that’s relatively close to the front, but not _too_ close. He sits right in the middle of the row, and then adjusts the wheeled chair to his liking so his legs aren’t cramped beneath the desk. Wait, what if his head is in the way of the row behind him? What if there’s something distracting on his back? Should he sit in the back?

Makoto glances fearfully behind him. The girl sitting in the row behind him doesn’t seem to care about where or how he’s sitting. She’s also raised a level, giving her a clear line of sight. Makoto must’ve been looking for a while, because the girl catches his eyes and gives him a little smile. The unexpected gesture has Makoto quickly snapping his head back to face front. Oh no, he should’ve smiled back, he should’ve—

He naturally looks to his side in search of that familiar pair of slender shoulders, and that deadpan expression that just screams ‘you’re an idiot’, and those thin hands that always calm Makoto down with just a single touch. Then, Makoto remembers Haru’s not there. Haru’s probably practicing with his swim team and getting ready for the tournament coming up in the next few weeks. Looking very much like a kicked puppy, Makoto sulks in his chair and props his chin up with the palm of his hand.  Just like Haru depends on Makoto to function in day-to-day life (such as getting out of the bathtub before he falls asleep and drowns), Makoto relies on Haru’s near-constant support. He’s a source of confidence.

Makoto shakes his head to himself. He promised himself he would do his best to live independently from Haru, no matter how hard it may be. Haru did the same, too, so…

With a deep breath, Makoto turns around to face the girl once more. She looks up again with a smile. She’s pretty, with dark eyes and dark hair and smooth olive skin. She’s wearing bright red lipstick that isn’t too gaudy. Makoto smiles back at her and rolls backward in his chair so he can lean his elbow on her desk. It’s a little awkward because it’s about a foot higher than his row, but he’s tall enough to pull it off without drawing too much attention to himself.

“I’m Tachibana Makoto, nice to meet you,” Makoto says. He hasn’t spoken out loud in a while, so his voice immediately breaks and cracks. Flushing as the girl giggles at him, he lets out a reflexive chuckle and ruffles the hair on the back of his head.

“Nice to meet you, Tachibana-kun. I’m Sato Fuyumi.”

“Sato-san,” Makoto chimes. Sato laughs.

“You don’t have to be so formal!”

“Sorry,” Makoto says, his smile fading a little as he backpedals. “Do you prefer--”

“It’s fine,” Sato says. She sets her phone down and folds her hands as she leans forward. “You don’t have to be so nervous. You’re a first year, aren’t you?”

“…Yes, is it that obvious?” Makoto sighs. Sato laughs and nods.

“Oh yes,” Sato says. “It’s really easy to spot you guys. You just look younger, too, you know? I’m a third year, majoring in physical therapy, with a minor in nutrition. I just switched over from a different major, so unfortunately I’m stuck in these introduction courses. Are you a physical therapy major, too?”

“No, I’m studying physical education,” Makoto says. Sato raises an eyebrow.

“Really? Most phys-ed students choose the yoga class. It’s a lot easier than anatomy.”

“Um, I think I’d break something if I tried yoga…” Makoto trails off, scratching at his cheek. Sato giggles again. As she speaks, more and more students file into the classroom. The professor also makes an appearance, and makes her way to the front of the classroom to prepare her lecture notes.

“Where are you from, Tachibana-kun?” Sato asks, raising her voice slightly to compensate for the volume of the other students entering the room.

“I’m from Iwatobi.”

“Never heard of it!” Sato says, resting her chin in her palm. “Must be a small town then, huh? How do you like the big city?”

“The subways are scary,” Makoto whines. Sato laughs again and Makoto can feel his heart lift. It’s easy talking to this girl. Maybe she’s talking to him only to be nice to the big, awkward first year, but it feels good nonetheless. He hasn’t been able to build up the courage to talk to anyone in any of his classes yet. If he had known it would be this easy, he would’ve begun on the first day. “Where are you from, Sato-san?”

“I’m from right here in Tokyo,” Sato says. She’s about to continue when the professor begins fiddling with her microphone and pinning it to her shirt. Sato winks. “Class will start any minute. I’ll talk to you later, ‘kay?”

Makoto nods and turns back to face his desk. He digs around in his book bag for the notebook he reserved for this class. It’s a college-ruled green notebook. He then pulls out a nice black fountain pen he got as a present from Rei before he departed for Tokyo. If he’s not careful, it’ll smear, but it writes very nicely and smoothly. The perfect pen for the first class that will contribute to his major.

Someone sits beside him to his left and he doesn’t even look up, too busy scribbling in his memo pad to get the fountain pen started. He taps the pointed tip on the paper and the ink wells up on the memo pad. With the pen ready to use, Makoto neatly presses the cap on the back of the pen and writes ‘ANATOMY NOTES’ at the top of the first page of his notebook, then dates it. Another student sits to his right and he finally spares his ‘neighbors’ a glance. To his right is a young man with a closely shaved head and multiple piercings in his ears. He’d be intimidating if not for the bright pink watch on his wrist.

Makoto looks to his left and sets his gaze upon broad shoulders donned in an unbuttoned, navy blue blazer. Underneath, he wears a graphic tee pulled taut against a chiseled, muscular chest. His sleeves are pushed up just above the elbows, and his left wrist is smudged with gray pencil lead. Makoto gazes for just a moment, feeling a slight flutter of some long-forgotten urge that he buried a long time ago.

…Right, he should probably look at this guy’s face.

Makoto looks up and green meets teal as he looks his neighbor right in the eyes. Just as realization hits him, the other speaks up.

“Take a photo, it’ll last longer,” he says. His voice is deep and rumbling. Deeper than he remembered it being. Does he even remember this voice? Vaguely. He remembers the build of his body much more clearly.

“Yamazaki-kun!” Makoto exclaims. Sousuke leans his head against his hand and peers at Makoto for a while. At first glance, he looks annoyed or even hateful, but Makoto is accustomed to seemingly angry facial expressions, especially with Haru. He easily sees the spark of bemusement in Sousuke’s eyes. His lips naturally pull up into a smile as his cheeks grow a little warm. He didn’t stare too long, did he? “It’s been a while. How have you been?”

“Well enough, I suppose,” Sousuke grunts. He finally takes his eyes off of Makoto and looks down at his notebook and pencil. Grabbing his pencil, he taps it against the spiral wire of his notebook. “So you came to this uni too, huh? Didn’t expect you to be here.”

“Yes! I’m here studying physical education. I want to teach swimming and be a coach,” Makoto babbles, finding himself naturally spilling information. Sousuke only spares him a glance.

“I can see it. You always looked so… motherly,” he remarks. Makoto continues smiling, but can’t help but wonder if that was meant to be an insult or not. He decides to let it go. “You’re Tachibana, right? Nanase’s friend?”

“Yes,” Makoto says. “And Rin’s friend, of course.”

“Yeah,” Sousuke says. It’s a bit harder to hold a conversation with him than it is to hold a conversation with Sato. Remembering how Sato prompted him with questions, Makoto makes sure the professor isn’t starting (she’s having some technical difficulties, it looks like) and wheels his chair a little closer.

“What are you studying, Yamazaki-kun?”

“…Physical therapy,” he answers, picking at his eraser.

“It suits you,” Makoto comments. “So your shoulder…?”

Sousuke side-eyes him for a moment, making Makoto lift his hands in surrender.

“If it’s too personal, I won’t pressure you to answer,” he says. Sousuke peers at him until Makoto feels uncomfortable and is about to look away, but he finally sighs and speaks up.

“No, it’s not too personal. But it’s… not doing much better,” he says slowly. His eyebrows furrow and he clenches his fist for a moment. The bitterness in his eyes is so profound that Makoto can’t tear his gaze away. “Doctor said it could probably heal enough for me to _swim_ again. Not competitively, not on Rin’s level. Water aerobics is an option, but that seems a little pathetic, doesn’t it?”

He laughs to himself, but there is no humor in it. Makoto frowns. He wants to reach out to put a hand on his shoulder (not the wrecked one, obviously) and comfort him like he would his Iwatobi friends, but… it feels unwelcomed.

“Yamazaki-kun,” Makoto whispers. Sousuke gives him a dismissive wave of his hand.

“It’s got nothing to do with you. You don’t have to feel sorry for me,” he says. The words are harsh but his tone is resigned. “Just drop it. Anyway, I was impressed with your swimming at regionals and nationals last summer. You have real talent and strength. But you’re not going into the competitive world, are you?”

“No, I’m not. It’s not for me,” Makoto says with a small smile. Sousuke sighs and shoves his hands in the pockets of his black jeans as he leans back in his chair.

“Man, what a waste,” he groans. “Well, at least Nanase didn’t squander what he had. For Rin’s sake, at least.”

Makoto is about to respond when the professor clears her throat into the microphone.

“Alright, everyone, sorry for the delay. You can find the syllabus on the class website, so we’re going to skip that for today and get right down to the content,” she says, clapping her hands together and pulling down the screen for the projector. Makoto gives Sousuke a quick, apologetic look before turning his nose down to his notes. However, he pauses partway through them and scribbles a little message at the bottom left hand corner of the page. When he finishes, he slides it over to Sousuke and points at it.

_Haru always knew what his dreams were. He just didn’t know how to face them. Rin showed him how to face them head-on. He’s a very good friend._

Sousuke’s hardened look softens just a tiny bit and he flashes Makoto a small smile. He taps the words ‘ _very good friend_ ’ twice, then doesn’t talk to Makoto for the rest of the class save for a quiet ‘see ya’ at dismissal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friend [Diana](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something I forgot to mention in the last note: the #FEFSKY tag is also open to any commentary, fanart, or discussion about Future Earth, Future Sky. In fact, any and all discussion/commentary should be kept there. In the past, there have been problems with reaction posts to my fanfictions crowding the pairing tag! It's also the best way for me to see those things, because I also track #FEFSKY. Regarding any fanart that may make an appearance, I will reblog all of it. Any sort of art is welcome and appreciated!

“ _Haru_ , I don’t _like_ pineapple.”

“Quit complaining. You’re bothersome.”

Makoto sulks as he moves the chunks of pineapple around in the sauce underneath the mackerel on his plate, not wanting to stomach it. He doesn’t really hate pineapple. Actually, by itself it’s quite tasty. However, when Haru mixes it with savory things, well…

“Here,” Haru huffs, coming back into the dining room with a plate in hand. It’s mackerel with the same sauce, sans the pineapple and with white rice. Makoto is happy to trade it and allows Haru to have his dinner instead.

“Thank you, Haru-chan.”

Haru doesn’t bother lecturing him about his honorifics and instead digs into his meal. Smiling, Makoto pulls out a notebook from his bag and puts it on the table so he can go over some of his anatomy notes while he eats. Haru doesn’t look impressed by it, but he doesn’t say anything.

Today, after class, he decided to go to Haru’s apartment instead of going back to his dorm. This has become sort of a daily ritual for him now. He feels much more at home here than he does in his dorm. Without a roommate, it’s lonely. Also, Haru usually can’t be bothered to put in the extra effort to come to Makoto’s place. And finally, Makoto has his student ID which gives him a year-long free pass on several of the cheaper metro lines, one of which includes the train that goes to a station right down the street from Haru’s apartment. So really, it’s more convenient for Makoto to come here, anyway.

“How was practice today?” Makoto finally asks. He glances up when Haru pauses in his eating. Haru ponders the question for a moment, swallows, and gives Makoto a dry look.

“Coach Kento is a pain,” he grumbles. “Every time I dive, he makes me get back out and do it over and over until I get my timing and form right. It’s annoying. I just want to swim.”

“That’s just like you,” Makoto recites familiar words, leaning his cheek on his hand. Haru glowers at him. “But remember, you want to improve yourself, right? You shouldn’t be so pessimistic about Coach Kento’s criticizing. He’s not trying to keep you out of the water, he wants you to do the best you can.”

Haru pauses, takes a bite of mackerel, and looks away with an expression on his face that says ‘ _you’re right, but I’m not about to admit that’_. Makoto smiles knowingly, happy that his best friend hasn’t changed one bit, at least in some aspects, since making the decision to go pro.

“You’ve had that annoying smile on your face all day,” Haru remarks. He nibbles on a piece of pineapple and gazes directly at Makoto, searching for answers. “If you’re so happy, why did you come to my place for dinner again? Does freeloading really make you that happy?”

“That’s not it!” Makoto laughs. “It’s just… you wouldn’t believe who I saw in class today. Yamazaki Sousuke is in my anatomy class!”

Haru puts his chopsticks down with an uncharacteristically loud _clack_ , his eyes downcast for a moment.

“So he decided to give it up?” he asks. His voice sounds momentarily distant, like he knows something.

“Give what up? What’s going on with him?” Makoto prods. Haru shrugs.

“While Rin was whining to me a month or so ago, he told me that Yamazaki was going to think about working towards competitive swimming again, for his sake. And if he decided not to go through with it, then he was gonna go to university instead and pursue something different. I didn’t know it’d be the university you’re going to, though. I wonder if he’s told Rin yet, or if he’s going to make him cry again,” Haru explains. He rolls his eyes. “Either way, he’ll definitely cry.”

Makoto’s lips lift into a sad smile, but he doesn’t really find it funny. Rin has _always_ been emotional. If Sousuke told him he’d think about entering the competitive world, and then _didn’t_ , he’d be devastated. Sensing some resentment residing in Haru because of this, he decides not to press the issue further. Obviously there’s still a feud going on between the two of them regardless of how Sousuke views Haru these days and vice versa, and Makoto doesn’t want to make it worse.

“Well… I also met a girl named Sato Fuyumi. She’s a nice third year who sits behind me in anatomy. She’s pretty cute, too,” Makoto says to veer the subject elsewhere. Haru gives him a look, blue eyes squinting at him ever so slightly.

“Did you meet any cute _boys?_ ” he deadpans. Makoto immediately breaks out in a cold sweat.

“Wh-What do you mean--”

“Well, you’re gay, aren’t you?”

“No… well, I mean, _yes_ , but that’s besides the poi--”

“Ran and Ren aren’t here anymore; you should expand your vision to include guys, now.”

“ _What do you mean, expand my vision?!_ ”

Haru munches calmly on his dinner while Makoto puts his head down on the table and moans to himself. Of course he’s gay. He’s always been gay. Through middle school and high school and his whole life, really. He never really ‘discovered’ it, either; he just knew he was attracted to men and that it was a part of him. The only people he ever told are his parents and Haru. Haru doesn’t care, of course, being a boy who doesn’t really feel any sort of sexual attraction in the first place. His parents are supportive, but back then they were wary of him dropping such a big subject on Ran and Ren when they were so young. Makoto’s parents thought they were too young to be exposed to those adult things, regardless of sexual orientation, so he never felt oppressed by their request to keep it to himself. Ran and Ren are older now, and probably know a lot more about sexuality than Makoto cares to think about, but out of habit he keeps it to himself.

He’s not sure if this is a bad thing or not. He doesn’t get urges to… do things, anyway. He hasn’t for a very long time. In fact, the last time he felt any sort of strong feeling of desire towards anyone was when Rei showed up in the swim club. He was pretty. And then he was wearing that unflattering speedo and… well, Makoto didn’t really pursue anything after that. The only other time was when he had a brief, fleeting crush on Haru in middle school. It was short-lived, and only really developed because they were in such close vicinity all the time. Now, Makoto can’t imagine dating Haru. It’d be like dating an older version of Ran or Ren. Completely weird and unimaginable. That being said, he doesn’t object to the occasional platonic cuddles or bed-sharing. It’s probably weird to anyone on the outside of their unbreakable bond, but they’ve always been touchy-feely with each other.

“Stop thinking about weird things,” Haru says. When Makoto looks up, Haru is already done with his dinner and getting up to wash his dish. “And… I’m sorry if I crossed a line by bringing that up.”

Makoto hears the hesitation in his voice. It’s getting better, but since their big fight during their last year in high school, Haru has been careful about crossing boundaries. It’s troublesome sometimes, but Makoto appreciates the effort and knows that it means Haru just loves him very deeply. He doesn’t make a big deal out of it, not wanting Haru to feel doubtful, and just puts on his usual smile.

“You didn’t cross any lines, Haru. It’s okay.”

And that’s really all he has to say. Haru accepts it without blinking and exits the room. When the sink starts running, Makoto gulps the rest of his dinner down and gets up to join Haru in the kitchenette to help him. Haru washes, he dries.

“I haven’t really been searching for… cute boys,” Makoto says lowly as he dries Haru’s spatula. His cheeks feel hot. “Honestly, I haven’t had time. Besides, I don’t even know if I’m… well… maybe I’m like you, Haru. Maybe I’m asexual.”

Haru glances at Makoto, shrugs, and returns to scrubbing a plate before handing it to Makoto to rinse and dry it off.

“I don’t think you are,” Haru says simply. Makoto opens his mouth to speak. “Don’t ask me how I know. I just do. Because I know you. I know how much you keep things pent up.”

“Pent up,” Makoto echoes. That might be true. Haru gives him a nudge, just a little one, and Makoto feels reassured by it. He doesn’t know why, he just does. “You’re probably right.”

Later, after they’re done cleaning up, Makoto tries to decide whether or not he wants to stay over. He probably shouldn’t, since it’s not the weekend, but they’re so comfortable on Haru’s couch. As the clock strikes eleven, Makoto nestles deeper between the back of the couch and the armrest. Haru follows, leaning up against his chest. They could never do this at Makoto’s house back in Iwatobi. They’d have to go to Haru’s house if they wanted to cuddle and watch a movie. Even then it wasn’t very comfortable, since Haru had a futon with hard bars and springs poking into their backs.

“I wonder how the swim club is doing,” Haru murmurs. His voice vibrates against Makoto’s chest as he turns his head to glance up at Makoto. He just smiles.

“I’m confident Rei’s handling it just fine. And with Gou there, they’ll _definitely_ be fine. I’m sure Rei’s running it better than I did.”

“Impossible.”

Makoto laughs and hugs Haru a little tighter.

“The new recruits looked very capable, too. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“I’m not worried,” Haru huffs. Makoto titters at him and buries his face in his hair. Closing his eyes, he lets the colors behind his eyelids dance and trace patterns over the vast blackness. He wishes he could stay here forever, unafraid and in the company of someone he loves. He wonders if Haru feels the same way. He understands asexuality just fine, and also knows that Haru has a big problem with anyone who thinks that ‘asexual’ means ‘self-reproduction’. However, sometimes he wonders if it’s a lonely way of living.

“Haru?”

“Mm?”

“Do you ever get lonely?”

“As if that could happen. You’re here almost every single day,” Haru quips. Makoto pouts.

“That’s not what I _meant_ , Haru. I mean, do you…?”

“Nope,” he says. “My one great love is the water. And my friends. That’s all I need.”

“That still sounds sorta lonely,” Makoto says. Haru shrugs.

“Well, it’s not. This is why I know you’re not like me. You’re a big dumb dog who can’t go even a moment without snuggling something,” Haru says. He reaches back and grabs at Makoto’s nose, pulling it.

“Ahhh, _Haruuu!_ ”

“You’re hopeless,” Haru sighs, shaking his head.

“That’s _my_ line!”

“I’m not lonely,” Haru finally says. “I found what I’ve been searching for. And when I’m done swimming professionally, I think I’ll just become a mackerel and swim out to sea.”

“That’s impossible!”

\---

Makoto, much to Haru’s (faked) chagrin, ends up spending the night. Unfortunately, Haru’s little bed isn’t big enough for the both of them, so Haru sets up a couple futons on the floor while Makoto changes into a t-shirt and a pair of boxers. They talk about meaningless things while Makoto studies with his textbooks and the flashlight app on his new phone (a going-away gift from his parents, in fact). Haru tries to go to sleep and pretends to get annoyed any time Makoto says anything, which leads to playful teasing before Haru finally pinches Makoto’s bare thigh _hard_ and makes him squeal. After that, he goes quiet and lets Haru sleep while he finishes his studies.

It’s two in the morning by the time he finishes, but luckily his class isn’t until noon, so he has time to get enough sleep before he has to go to class. Makoto lies down on his futon and rolls onto his side to face Haru, who is snoring softly. He has grown since his trip to Australia. He talks more, and isn’t so afraid to share how he’s feeling. Especially with Rin. Makoto isn’t really jealous of him anymore, since he has come to terms with the fact that Haru simply relates to Rin more in certain aspects of his life. Besides, Makoto is the one who is attached to Haru’s hip, not Rin. He has already won that privilege through years of dedication to being Haru’s best friend. But still…

Feeling a little emotional, Makoto reaches out and touches Haru’s sleek black hair, brushing some out of his face. He returns his hand to himself and burrows beneath his blanket. One day, Haru might have to leave his side. One day, one of them or both of them are going to have a family and they won’t be able to spend time together like this anymore. Makoto shakes his head. He really can’t see Haru falling for anybody. He wonders if Haru has romantic feelings, or if it’s just sexual desire he lacks. He can’t imagine not being interested in falling in love with anyone, but then again Haru is Haru and Makoto is Makoto. Sometimes Makoto has to remind himself that Haru doesn’t think the same way that he does in all facets of their lives.

So what about himself? Obviously he’s not interested in starting a family the traditional way. He’d have to adopt, but for gay men to do such a thing in Japan is not legal. Makoto would like a family, but…

This is why he wanted to keep these feelings buried deep inside of him. It was much easier to just not think about it. Once upon a time it was for Ran and Ren’s sake, but now? It’s for his sake. If he thinks about this anymore, he might just cry, so he swallows those bad thoughts down and curls up on his futon. Exhaustion from all of the brain power he used during class and studying afterwards catches up on him quick, making his eyelids heavy. They slide shut after a few minutes of actively keeping bad thoughts at bay, and soon he loses himself to sleep.

Makoto doesn’t recall most of his dreams, unless they’re particularly scary. He’d never tell anyone, not even Haru, that he had a nightmare during his last year of high school and woke up crying when it was over, terrified and alone in his bedroom. It’s embarrassing that a grown man would cry over a silly nightmare, but it _was_ scary.

When he dreams tonight, it’s mostly a blend of colors and shapes he can vaguely recognize. Most of them are smudges that resemble Haru and Rei and Nagisa; flashes of black and blue and blonde hair dancing in his head. When they speak, their mouths don’t move, but Makoto can hear their voices like they’re talking. They mostly speak nonsense, little clips of things they said a long time ago that Makoto just barely remembers. In his dreams, he swims. He dives deep in a pool and finds coins at the bottom, which he runs his hand through. He thinks about marbles, and the coins at the bottom of the pool become marbles.

It’s all pointless things like this playing over and over in his head as he descends deeper into slumber. The pool turns into a giant vat of green jelly. Gummy mackerel swim through the jelly and he finds one of his class notebooks at the bottom of the pool. He thinks about class, and he’s suddenly there, surrounded by faceless students and a faceless teacher. He’s writing his notes, but he can’t get his hand to write properly. The pen is out of ink. It doesn’t really make him anxious, because he can’t understand the language the professor is speaking in the first place.

Makoto looks to his left and a swollen, reddened shoulder slips into view.

The classroom goes dark and before him sits Sousuke, bare from the hips up. Makoto remembers a sight like this. That’s right, he was walking behind him before the medley relay at regionals. And his shoulder…

Droplets of water and sweat dribble down moist flesh, slipping past red, inflamed skin and trickling between the bulges of his muscles. Sights like this make Makoto understand Gou’s obsession. He can’t tear his eyes away as that body moves, back arching up and out, thighs and calves flexing as he stretches. He rolls his shoulder the same way Makoto has seen him roll it before, slow and cautious and _sexy_.

His hips are powerful. And butterfly swimmers always have such nice, shapely—

Makoto awakens with a start, covered in a cold sweat. His body quakes with the memories of the dream. That was… vivid. Makoto wants to look under the sheets but he’s afraid of what he might find there. No amount of tossing or turning gives him the relief he needs, however, so as quietly as possible he slips out of bed and goes to the bathroom.

He didn’t make a mess, thank god, but he’s certainly half-hard. Makoto nibbles on the side of his index finger as he stares in the mirror for a long time at his blushing face and ears. With a deep breath, he bends over the sink and splashes his face with cold water until he’s not so heated anymore. Cupping water in his hands, he splashes some more on his sweaty arms and rubs a little into his legs, too. When it’s over and he’s got reins on his body once more, he sighs shakily and sits down on the edge of the tub. Putting his head in his hands, he allows himself a few moments to think about what just happened.

Okay, that was a dream about Sousuke’s body. There’s that. Well, seeing him today was a big thing that happened, so obviously he would have Sousuke on the mind. And then Haru had to go and bring up his sexual orientation and get him all flustered, so that obviously played a role in it, too. He’s had weird dirty dreams before, so this shouldn’t be such a big deal. In fact, he remembers having one of… those dreams about Rei, too. So he really shouldn’t be so unsettled by this.

But he is.

He is very unsettled by this.

Well, at least he won’t have to face Sousuke tomorrow, because it’s a Tuesday. His anatomy class is only on Mondays and Wednesdays, so he’ll have a whole day to forget this ever happened. And when he wakes up tomorrow, he’ll be able to affectively bury it all over again.

No sweat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friend [Diana](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	3. Chapter 3

Wednesday, one in the afternoon.

He hasn’t forgotten his dream at all.

Makoto fidgets restlessly in his chair, unable to even turn around to face Sato as he rubs his hands together. With sweaty, shaking fingers, he runs his hand through his messy hair. He hopes it doesn’t look like he just rolled out of bed, because that’s basically what happened. Now he’s practically got a phobia of dreaming again. Dark circles rest under his eyes, his body unused to such a pathetic night of sleep.

“Tachibana? Tachibana-kun!”

The voice calling his name finally catches his attention, making him jump and whirl around. Sato is there, leaning far forward and propping her chin up on her palm.

“Welcome back to earth, dreamer!” she laughs. “You okay? You look a little tired.”

“Ah… late night studying,” Makoto answers, putting on his signature smile with a head-tilt. It doesn’t work so well with such dark circles under his eyes. Sato looks unconvinced.

“I see. Hey, me and some friends are having a get-together after class at a bar or something--wanna come? Oh, wait. You’re probably not twenty, are you?”

“Sorry, I’m only eighteen,” Makoto says with an embarrassed laugh. Sato waves her hand.

“That’s fine. There’re plenty of other things to do. You wanna go to a café or something? Karaoke?”

“…Sure. I mean, anything is fine, really,” Makoto says shyly. He’s really never been on an outing with anyone besides people he knows well. However, it’s probably good for him to start making friends around here, anyway.

“Yo, Tachibana.”

Makoto jumps like he’s been electrocuted, whipping his head around to face Sousuke, who looms over him looking as petulant as usual.

“H-Hi, Yamazaki-kun,” he stammers. Sousuke gives him a look and for a split second. Makoto’s sure he knows what he’s thinking.

“…You look beat, Tachibana.”

“That’s what I said!” Sato laughs. She grins up at Sousuke. “My name’s Sato Fuyumi, nice to meet you.”

“I’m Yamazaki Sousuke. It’s a pleasure,” Sousuke replies curtly. Looking indifferent, he flops down in his chair beside Makoto and tosses his bag on the table. Today he’s wearing a hoodie and jeans. His skin looks flushed, like he just got out of the shower ten minutes ago. His hair’s damp, too. Makoto doesn’t notice Sousuke watching him. “Do I have a bug in my hair or something?”

“Hmm?” Makoto hums dazedly. He snaps out of it and looks sharply away. “Oh! No. Not at all, I just noticed that… you look like you just got out of the shower.”

That’s so much worse than the bug thing. _So_ much worse. It’s such a weird thing to notice about someone. Makoto blushes to the tips of his ears and rubs at his temples. He’s aware of both Sato and Sousuke’s gazes burning into him and he wishes he could climb in a hole.

“I was swimming before this at the student activity center,” Sousuke explains. He doesn’t sound like he thought what Makoto said was weird at all. Makoto looks at him, curious. “Yeah. I was… doing some _laps_.”

His eyes go dark when he says it. He’s not a very good liar. Anyone with half as much perception as Makoto could see that. Makoto has dealt with many ‘that’s not it’ and ‘not really’ and ‘I’m not’ statements in his life from Haru alone to know that Sousuke is lying. That probably means he was doing therapy-approved aerobics and doesn’t want to admit it.

“So you guys know each other, then?” Sato asks. “Awesome! Why don’t you come out with us, Yamazaki-kun? Tachibana-kun is coming, too.”

“Ah--!” Makoto begins. They don’t know each other _that_ well! Flustered, he looks back and forth from Sato to Sousuke and back again. Sousuke just shrugs.

“Whatever. I don’t have anything to do after class, anyway,” Sousuke says. Makoto bites his lower lip. Sousuke’s cool. He’s very cool and confident with anything he says. He didn’t even blink when he was asked to go out with a complete stranger and her friends. It makes Makoto feel ashamed somehow. His confidence shakes his ego just a little. “What time?”

“Right after class. We can stop by my dorm to drop off our stuff before we go. My friend’s picking us up in her car, and we’re going to go downtown,” Sato says, smiling wide. “It’ll be fun! I promise.”

Right after that, class starts. Makoto does everything he can to concentrate, writing detailed and thorough notes. Soon he is able to concentrate fully on it, immersing himself into the lesson. Partway through, the professor takes a moment to show a video on bone structure and joints. Makoto watches it, jotting down little notes on how each joint works. When it gets to the shoulder one, he can’t help but be reminded of Sousuke. He glances over at him, only to find that Sousuke hasn’t written a single thing down the entire class period. His pen remains capped on top of his note book. He’s not even watching the video. Instead, he’s got his chin propped up on his palm as he gazes wistfully off into space. His eyes, dark and brooding, reflect the rotating shoulder joint on the screen. Not once does he take his eyes off of the brick on the wall behind the professor.

Makoto again is overwhelmed with the desire to reach out and touch him, but for a split second he’s sure his hand will phase right through Sousuke. He doesn’t reach for him. Instead, he returns his eyes to the screen and continues working hard to take good notes.

When class is over, Makoto sighs loudly and shakes out his cramping hand, which has a few ink smears on it from his fountain pen. He filled in two full pages today, front and back, full of notes. His hand hurts but he feels confident that he’s got it down. He glances to the left, noticing Sousuke hasn’t even closed his notebook yet. He’s still staring off in the distance.

“Yamazaki-kun?” Makoto asks. Sousuke blinks once, twice, before looking back at Makoto. He’s slow on the uptake, but he realizes that class is over. His movements look as if there is rust in his joints. Like he needs an oil change or something.

“Ugggh, finally,” Sato says from behind them. Makoto turns to see her standing with her backpack slung over her shoulder and her purse in hand. “Let’s go!”

As the three of them exit the classroom, Makoto pulls out his phone to text Haru that he won’t be coming over tonight; he has plans. He pauses before sending it, then adds something else.

_But call me later tonight to tell me about your day._

There. Now Haru won’t feel like he’s abandoning him. Makoto smiles, pulling his lips between his teeth a little as he thinks about Haru swimming. He hopes he’s doing well today.

“Nanase is just as high-maintenance as Rin said, isn’t he?” Sousuke suddenly comments. Makoto realizes that he has lagged behind Sato a little, and Sousuke has slowed down to walk by his side. Sato, meanwhile, walks briskly. She’s short but her little legs move fast as her hair bounces. She reminds Makoto of a bunny.

“…How did you know I was texting Haru?” Makoto asks, sliding his phone in his pocket. Sousuke shrugs.

“You had a dumb look on your face. I figured Nanase was the one causing it.”

“Yamazaki-kun, that’s not _nice_ ,” Makoto whines. Sousuke lets out a little laugh, the first time Makoto has heard it. It’s low and rumbling. Even in the crowded hallway of the science building, he can hear it just fine.

“Haha, sorry. It’s just, Rin gets a similar look on his face when he talks to Nanase,” Sousuke explains. “It’s just the effect he has on people, I think. At least you don’t obsessively talk about him like Rin does. It gives me headaches, listening to him run his mouth. At this point I know more about him than I wish to know.”

Makoto giggles at Sousuke’s dry remark. It’s funny somehow. When he speaks, it’s out of the corner of his mouth. His tone of voice, maybe? Makoto grins over at Sousuke and Sousuke smirks back at him.

Sato takes them to the elevator and they ride down to the first floor. Partway through the ride, Sato’s phone goes off and she reads a text message before letting out a loud groan. As the elevator doors open, she dramatically ‘falls’ out of the elevator and stomps to the front doors.

“Maaaaaaan, my friend said there’s too much traffic for her to drive! We have to take the subway. You guys have your student IDs? The school supplies year-long passes for a few metro lines, you know that, right?” Sato asks over her shoulder.

“Cool,” Sousuke says. Of course Makoto knows. He takes the subway to Haru’s place all the time, but he doesn’t feel the need to voice this out loud. For some reason, he doesn’t want Sousuke to know about that part of his routine. Instead of answering, he just nods.

“Awesome! Okay, let’s just stop at my dorm so we can drop our stuff off, then we’ll go to the station.”

\---

The station is crowded as usual, but it’s only a little past three, so the trains aren’t too bad yet. They’re able to get on a train without much of a fuss, and are even able to find seats. Sato voices her concerns with sitting next to strangers, so she forces Makoto and Sousuke to sit on either side of her. It’s a comical setup, seeing as she’s easily a foot shorter than both of them.

“So, Yamazaki-kun, what’s your major?” Sato asks, looking over to Sousuke. He glances at her, then flicks his gaze back to a sign on the other side of the train.

“Physical therapy.”

“Me too!” Sato says excitedly, reaching over to smack Sousuke’s knee. “Physical therapy buddies! I just switched over from a different major, though, so I’m going to have to stick around quite a bit longer in these introduction courses. It’s unfortunate, but at least I met you two!”

She reaches up and out on either side of her and ruffles their hair. Sousuke kind of shies away from her touch, looking a little shocked by it. Makoto just laughs.

“Sato-san, jeez,” Makoto says, reaching up to smooth his hair again.

The train makes a stop right outside of downtown Tokyo, and a whole bunch of new people get onboard. Sousuke, Makoto, and Sato all end up giving up their seats for a mother with her three children. More people file in, making it a little claustrophobic. Again, Sato stands between Sousuke and Makoto, mentioning that she feels very safe between two such tall, strong boys.

When the train ride is over, they get off and walk up the stairs onto the streets of downtown Tokyo. It’s crowded. _Unbelievably_ crowded, to the point that Makoto can feel himself sort of closing in on himself. He wraps his arms around himself, gripping his elbows as he walks. It’s hot and stuffy, the breaths of a thousand people intermingling with the spring heat and humidity.

“Wow, the traffic isn’t _that_ bad,” Sato complains loudly. “She totally lied. It’s not even crowded today.”

“…This isn’t crowded?” Makoto asks, mostly to himself. He sees Sousuke glance at him out of the corner of his eye.

“First time downtown?” he asks. He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Just stick close and keep moving. You won’t be in anyone’s way as long as you keep moving.”

“Okay,” Makoto says, veering a little so he’s walking closer to Sousuke. Their shoulders brush and it isn’t really that big of a deal, but Makoto gets gooseflesh up his arm anyway.

“We’re going to a little hole-in-the-wall place that isn’t going to be too busy today,” Sato says, looking over her shoulder. “It’s hidden under a building, so not many people know about it. They’ve got good food, though.”

Makoto sighs with relief. A busy restaurant would further increase his anxieties. People move so fast around him, he doesn’t even have time to enjoy the scenery. It’s amazing how tall the buildings are here. It’s almost as if they’re closing in on him, swallowing him up and spitting him back out. There were absolutely no buildings like this in Iwatobi. The hilly little coastal town is a good balance of nature and humans, and nobody ever moves so fast. Makoto isn’t one to complain about technology, but nobody here seems concerned about the smell of exhaust pipes from cars or the sound of honking and engines and chattering. Nobody looks up from their phones or other handheld devices to really take a look around.

For the first time, he feels a little tinge of homesickness. He wonders what his mom is cooking for dinner. Are Ran and Ren well? Have they been brushing their teeth without—

A sudden hand on his elbow has him whipped back into reality. He’s jerked out of the direct path of a trash bin.

“Watch it!” Sousuke snaps, brows knitted as he holds Makoto’s arm. “It’s so obvious you’re from the country, it’s embarrassing.”

“I’m sorry,” Makoto squeaks. Sousuke sighs and releases his arm. Feeling humiliated, Makoto looks down at the ground. He’s so glad he hasn’t taken Haru downtown for dinner yet, because if he’s this pathetic while on the streets of Tokyo, he and Haru would be the two biggest idiots in Japan. They’d be in the back of a police car and driven home before sundown.

“I was joking, Tachibana,” Sousuke says. Realizing Sousuke has been looking at him with a concerned expression (well, as concerned as Sousuke can look) on his face, Makoto smiles and reaches up to stroke a lock of hair behind his ear, shaking his head.

“I… really _am_ not used to living in the big city,” he says. They follow Sato across a street, then make their way down another, much less crowded, street. Makoto moves a little bit away from Sousuke, giving him more space. “Last year’s Obon festival wasn’t even this busy in Iwatobi… it’s a little scary.”

“Yeah, Rin mentioned you’re kind of a--” Sousuke begins. He shuts his mouth as Makoto gives him a bewildered look.

“Rin? What did he say about me?”

Sousuke looks flustered. He clicks his tongue and scratches his head.

“Man, I shouldn’t have said anything. Well, it’s his problem, not mine. He said you’re easily scared. Kind of a scaredy-cat, honestly,” Sousuke says. Makoto purses his lips and flushes bright red. How much has Rin even said about him?! “Did I hit the nail on the head?”

Makoto splutters and gestures hopelessly before putting his face in his hands. He can’t lie at all.

“I-It’s true,” he admits. He’s not happy about it. However, Sousuke just starts to laugh. Makoto peeks through his fingers to see a big smile on Sousuke’s face. His eyes are scrunched up at the edges. His nose wrinkles when he laughs.

Oh no.

Makoto’s face is so hot that he’s surprised he hasn’t combusted yet. He wants to tell Sousuke to stop laughing, but his laugh is nice. His smile is even nicer. Makoto bites his lip and looks over at Sousuke again, but he’s back to his calm and indifferent demeanor.

They finally get to the little hole-in-the-wall café, where Sato leads them down a short staircase into the dining area. Quite a few people are here, actually. It’s busier than the most popular cafés in Iwatobi, but the waitresses act like it’s a slow day. Sato drags them through the small crowd to a table in the back corner, where three other people are sitting and talking loudly.

“Hey, everyone!” Sato says, waving. She gestures back to Sousuke and Makoto. “These are a couple guys from my anatomy class, Yamazaki Sousuke and Tachibana Makoto.”

“Nice to meet you,” Makoto says. He waves shyly at them while Sousuke just gives a nod of his head. His hands are still stuffed in his pockets. Makoto wonders if he’s a little nervous as well. They sit down beside each other in the booth.

“Tachibana, Yamazaki, these are my friends Hana, Aiko, and Kenji,” Sato says, pointing to each of her friends in order. Hana’s a bigger girl with a pretty, heart-shaped face. Aiko looks like she lifts weights or swims, even. Her arms are bulky and muscular, but her phone straps are pink and cute. Kenji has a slender face and pale skin. He has a Nintendo 3DS in his hands, and he only glances up briefly to say hello before getting back to his game.

“Swimmers?” Aiko asks, leaning forward. Makoto’s mouth falls open.

“Yes! How can you tell?” he asks. Aiko just laughs a big, booming laugh.

“Because only swimmers can get the bodies you two have. Let me guess… backstroke?”

“You’re right!” Makoto exclaims, making everyone laugh except for Sousuke. “That’s amazing!”

“Nah, it’s just because I was on my high school’s swim team. I was on backstroke, too. When I got to uni, I didn’t make the swim team so I joined the wrestling team instead,” Aiko says. She turns to Sousuke. “How about you, big guy? You on backstroke, too? Or maybe butterfly.”

“I don’t swim,” Sousuke says simply. Aiko lifts a brow at him but shrugs and forgets about it, instead turning her attention to Sato.

“So how was class, Fuyumi-chan?”

“Boooring. And, hey, why couldn’t you just pick us up?! The traffic wasn’t bad at all!”

While Sato and Aiko bicker, Makoto frowns and looks over at Sousuke. His eyes are downcast as he fiddles with a sugar packet. Aiko’s question obviously got to him. Makoto doesn’t really know what to say. He wants to say _something_ , but he doesn’t even know if it’s welcome. Would he just be brushed off, or…?

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Sousuke says abruptly.

He doesn’t come back for the remainder of the outing, much to everyone’s confusion. Even Makoto is a little shocked. At the end of the day, when they come back to campus, Sato ends up giving Sousuke’s things to Makoto, who takes them to give to him later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friend [Diana](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a reminder, these first chapters have been coming out daily, but because of LIFE and RESPONSIBILITIES (boo, Inky, booooo), chapter updates will probably be slowing down a little bit. If it's going to be delayed for over a week, I will let you all know. But for the time being, you don't have to worry about updates being delayed for more than two or three days.

_[Gou, can you text me Yamazaki’s number?]_

Makoto sends the text and frowns. He’s glad he chose to send the text to Gou instead of Rin. From what he knows, Rin’s still unaware Sousuke’s at a university, and doesn’t think it’s his place to tell him.

It’s Thursday in the late afternoon and Makoto still has Sousuke’s things, which include his backpack with his notebooks inside. In the front pocket, his jammers and swimming stuff are balled up in a plastic bag. They’re still wet and have begun to smell. Makoto ends up taking out his jammers and rinsing them in the sink in the communal bathroom, careful not to damage them in any way. He cleans them thoroughly by hand, then wrings them out and brings them back to his room, where he hangs it over the back of his desk chair.

His dorm room is small, built for a single student, and sort of bare. Since he doesn’t spend a lot of time here in the first place, he hasn’t bothered putting up any posters. He kind of wants to personalize his space, but he doesn’t think he should spend money frivolously just to get posters. So instead his walls are plain white. He has one bed with white sheets, one dresser, and one desk and chair. The showers and toilets are down the hall, and are shared by everyone on his floor. It’s a bit of a bother, especially because Makoto is sort of timid regarding his bare body, but he endures for the sake of being close to his classes.

Gou texts him back about an hour later, around the time when practice would be over for the day back in Iwatobi. She gives him Sousuke’s number right away, but asks why he needs it. Giving some vague response, Makoto dodges the question and instead dials Sousuke’s number. Bringing the phone to his ear, he anxiously waits for the call to go through and ring.

“ _Hello?_ ”

He sounds frustrated.

“U-Um… Yamazaki-kun? It’s Tachibana. I have your stuff at my place…”

_“Ah. That’s right. Bring it to the pool in an hour. Bring your suit. We’re gonna race.”_

“Alright, I-- wait, _huh?!_ ”

Sousuke hangs up with a _click._

He wants to _race?_ Makoto shakes his head in awe and looks over to his dresser. Inside, he knows his jammers are just waiting to be pulled out and tugged over his legs. He’s been itching to swim and hasn’t gotten a chance to do it since he was back in Iwatobi. He’s lost some muscle mass since then, naturally. How well would he actually do in a race?

Biting his lip, Makoto goes to his dresser and pulls out his suit. He got a brand new pair before he left Iwatobi, sort of as a symbol of new beginnings. It’s still the same design and length, however. Still unsure of whether or not this is a good idea, Makoto grabs his backpack and a jacket before heading to the activity center.

\---

It’s dark outside by the time he gets there, so the place is practically empty. A few people are jogging on the track, and there’s a group of people playing casual volleyball in the gymnasium. The pool is empty and relatively dark. Makoto loves the sight of the moonlight hitting the water through the windows, so much so that he’s disappointed when the automatic lights come on. This is short-lived, however, as the lights are turned right back off again. Makoto turns sharply, a little spooked by the sudden presence of another person.

Sousuke stands by a panel, his fingers still on the buttons. He is the one who turned the lights off. Makoto relaxes, shoulders slumping as he exhales. Watching Sousuke walk around the perimeter of the pool, Makoto’s a bit confused when he shuts all the doors. Suddenly, they’re cut off from the rest of the activity center and just the two of them are there, alone.

“Are you sure that’s okay?” Makoto asks when Sousuke approaches. He shrugs.

“I don’t care. I want to swim with the lights off, you okay with that?”

Makoto’s mind immediately goes to the gutter for some reason, and his face flushes red.

“It’s fine!” Makoto blurts. His voice cracks. Sousuke gives him a look, but then holds out his hand.

“Good. Did you bring my stuff?”

“Oh… yeah, it’s right here,” Makoto says, lifting Sousuke’s backpack. Sousuke takes it, pulls out his jammers and goggles, then tosses the bag carelessly aside. One of his pencils rolls out and Makoto’s about to say something, but Sousuke’s already heading towards the locker room.

“Coming, Tachibana?”

“Um, yeah,” Makoto says. He has an uneasy feeling about this. Glancing around fearfully, he follows Sousuke into the locker room and gets changed with him. They’re back-to-back, so Makoto doesn’t feel too self-conscious. However, the desire to look over his shoulder is so intense that the effort _not_ to do that is making him break out in a sweat.

He finally can’t take it any longer and sneaks a peak. What he sees is the expanse of Sousuke’s back, broad and smooth and nothing but muscle. Makoto’s hand tightens its grip on the locker door and he chews the inside of his cheek. He’s about to let his gaze lower a little bit more when he notices Sousuke’s right shoulder.

It’s red. It’s still red and swollen and it looks like it’s painful. Makoto straightens, his head fully turned to the side so he can stare at Sousuke’s shoulder. It really doesn’t look much better than it did at regionals. If Sousuke had been resting it properly, Makoto’s sure it at least wouldn’t be so fiery red. He’s obviously been straining himself. What exactly is he trying to accomplish?

“If you stare at my shoulder for another second I swear to god I’ll knock your eyes right out of your skull.”

Makoto flinches, shocked by the venom in Sousuke’s voice. Sousuke’s turned towards him now, glowering.

“It’s _fine_. So stop looking at me like I’m a cancer patient.”

“I’m really sorry,” Makoto whispers. Embarrassed, he quickly finishes getting changed, then heads to the pool. Sousuke joins him a minute later, silent and refusing to acknowledge that Makoto is even there. When they’re ready, they walk quietly up to the starting blocks and step onto them. Sousuke’s already down in position, but Makoto remains straightened as he fidgets. He doesn’t want to do this at all.

“Don’t half-ass it,” Sousuke grunts, glancing up at Makoto. “I saw your freestyle race with Nanase. I know how fast you can swim.”

“…Okay,” Makoto says hesitantly. This isn’t good. This is really not good. He takes his position, heart throbbing in his throat. Gripping the edge of the starting block, he swallows and looks down at the water below. For the first time in a long time, looking face down into water scares him, but it’s not for his sake.

“Ready,” Sousuke says. “Set. Go!”

Makoto dives off the starting block and carves into the surface of the pool like a knife. Gliding through the water, he exhales through his nose with a stream of bubbles before surfacing and extending his hand in a front crawl.

He knows something’s wrong in a second. Something dark passes him to the right, and a second later, he feels something grab his shoulder and yank upwards. Makoto flails momentarily before standing in the pool. He coughs up the water he practically inhaled, struggling to get his breath back.

“Again!” Sousuke barks before Makoto can say anything.

“What?” he asks, shrinking away from Sousuke’s abrupt fury. “Wh-What happened, why--?”

“One more time!”

They get out of the pool and return to the starting blocks. Sousuke calls it again, but his voice is shaking when he does. For the second time, Makoto dives in.

This time, Sousuke grabs his ankle and stops him in his tracks. Now Makoto’s some mix between angry and terrified, but mostly terrified. He’s shaking when Sousuke forces him out of the pool again. He calls it so fast that Makoto doesn’t even have time to get in position.

He finds out what’s wrong instantly.

When Sousuke dives, his right arm stops halfway through the lift into the diving position. He can’t even lift it above his head. Just before he hits the water, he makes a pained sound like a dying animal. Makoto’s hands go to his face, covering his open mouth. Sousuke resurfaces almost instantly, throwing his head back as he stands in the pool. He pounds the water with his fist and for a split second he looks like a caged animal, thrashing his good arm against the water so violently that some of the droplets from the splash land on Makoto.

“ _Shit!_ ” he bellows, agony in his breaking voice. Then he sinks into the water, one arm draped over the lane markers to keep his head afloat. Makoto hesitates before jumping in, feeling as though he has just witnessed something no one else has ever seen from Sousuke, not even Rin. The tension in the air could be cut by a hacksaw as Makoto treads closer. He still doesn’t know if his touch is welcome. He’s sure it’s not, but this time he doesn’t care.

Coming closer, Makoto makes sure Sousuke knows exactly where he is before he sinks down in the water beside him. Also draping an arm over the lane markers, Makoto reaches out and sets his hand on Sousuke’s back.

“Don’t look at me,” he hisses. His eyes are damp. Makoto obeys and doesn’t look.

“Why’d you want to race me?” Makoto finally asks. He keeps his eyes trained on Sousuke’s left shoulder. Sousuke puts his face in his hand and shakes his head.

“I wanted to see if I even had a chance. I knew I couldn’t be on Nanase or Rin’s level. But… just enough to even have a _chance_ to…” Sousuke whispers. His voice is small and quivering. Makoto’s hand slides down his back, dipping into the water. He brings water up in his cupped hand and pours it over Sousuke’s back. He used to do the same thing to Ran and Ren in the bath, and it’s more of a habit than an active method of calming him down.

“But your shoulder--” Makoto begins.

“It’s not going to get better,” Sousuke interrupts. “The doctors said I did irreparable damage to it after that last race. Rin stopped me before I left Iwatobi. Told me that… it’d heal one day, he’d be waiting, and I… I thought I could be done with it, but--”

His voice cracks and Makoto watches as he grits his teeth.

“I wish he could’ve kept his big mouth shut,” Sousuke snarls, bringing his fist down hard onto the water, sending up a spray of it into Makoto’s face. “I wanted to quit swimming after that race, but he put hope there again. I’ve tried so hard, but it just gets worse and worse. I can’t face him. He’s my _best_ friend, and…”

Makoto understands the situation now. He’s heartbroken for Sousuke. Not because he pities him, but because he can empathize. Here he is, still fighting bravely every single day, striving to stand on the same level as his best friend. Makoto knows the feeling. He knows that hopelessness.

“When I raced Haru at prefectures last year, I told him to race me seriously,” he begins slowly. Sousuke doesn’t look at him, but he tilts his head a little to show he’s listening. “I practiced hard. I practiced every single day!”

He laughs quietly, but the smile quickly fades.

“And then I raced him. I’ve always had good stamina. I thought I’d be able to push myself the whole way, but when I saw him pass me, I felt all the energy leave my body. I realized I couldn’t achieve even half of the things Haru could achieve effortlessly, no matter how hard I practiced. I was angry. I’m still angry. I was actually angry at Rin, too. I was jealous that he could bring out something in him that I can’t even touch. That’s… that’s probably how you feel about Haru, to an extent.”

Sousuke finally looks at him, teal eyes shimmering. He looks so vulnerable like this. Again, Makoto feels as though he’s uncovering something that has never been seen. Sousuke actually threw a tantrum in front of him, like Ran or Ren when they don’t get dessert. It’s an adult problem, but the child-like fear and raw anger is still present.

Frowning, Makoto gazes at Sousuke’s right shoulder and cups water in his hands. He pours it over the inflamed area. Sousuke shuts his eyes and lets out a soft hiss, his hair falling forward as he bows his head.

“Let’s get out of the pool,” Makoto says. Nodding, Sousuke stands. Even though Sousuke’s taller, Makoto feels like a parent escorting a child as he wades to the edge of the pool. He climbs out first, but when he turns he sees Sousuke hesitating before planting his hands on the edge of the pool. His arms shake and buckle as he tries to get out, sending him falling back in with a splash. Makoto is immediately reminded of Rin when he was in so much emotional pain that he couldn’t even muster the strength to get out of the pool after a devastating loss.

Makoto offers his hand and Sousuke stares at it with a look on his face that is so completely and utterly ashamed that Makoto almost withdraws it again. However, Sousuke’s face hardens and he glares.

“That’ll put strain on both of us. Mostly you. You can mess up your back doing that. It always pissed me off when I saw you pulling Nanase out of the pool,” Sousuke grumbles, starting to shuffle one-handed along the wall towards the ladder. He dunks under the lane markers one by one. Makoto follows him, watching over him. Sousuke clicks his tongue in irritation. “I can do _this_ at least, Tachibana, lay off!”

Makoto stops following him along the edge of the pool. It’s a pitiful display of powerlessness and he doesn’t know if he wants to see it. He watches Sousuke drag himself to the ladder and haul his body out of the pool, then finally goes to his side.

 “I’m sorry for dragging you into this,” Sousuke says after a long pause. “This isn’t your problem at all. I just…”

He gestures hopelessly and shakes his head, looking off to the side and toward the ground. Makoto just smiles.

“We’re friends, aren’t we?” Makoto says, his voice soft. Sousuke looks back at him, surprised. “I’d be fine with it if you confide in me more. I know… I know Rin can be a bit hard-headed and dense. And Kisumi… well, I don’t think you talk to him much anyway.”

Sousuke stares at Makoto for a long time before his face breaks into a smile.

“I… guess we are friends,” he says. His eyes grow softer as he reaches up to comb his wet hair back. “Makoto.”

Makoto’s heart jumps as Sousuke says his name. It’s really not a big deal. It shouldn’t be a big deal at all, because they’ve known of each other’s existences for a long time. Even though he had never seen him, Rin had spoken of him when they were young children. Yet Makoto feels as though he’s naked, his skin burning up.

“Sousuke…kun,” Makoto tacks the honorific on almost as an afterthought and Sousuke just laughs at him.  

“You really are a small town guy. Nobody in our university is going to care if you use honorifics or not. Loosen up a little,” Sousuke says. He lightly punches Makoto’s shoulder, pushing him a little. Makoto hugs himself and smiles bashfully.

“Sorry, Sousuke.”

“Better. C’mon, let’s shower up.”

They leave together towards the locker room again. Makoto looks over his shoulder a little wistfully at the pool. He didn’t spend that long in the pool at all. He wants to swim some more. Obviously he doesn’t feel the same pull to water that Haru does, or he’d never get out of the water. But still, it’s been so long since he actually did the backstroke.

He’s so lost in thought that he doesn’t realize that Sousuke has stopped walking. He runs straight into him, almost knocking him over.

“Sorry!” he cries, jumping back and nearly slipping on the tile floor. Sousuke turns to look at him, lips pulled downward into a frown.

“Makoto. I want to watch you swim,” he says. “At least one lap.”

Makoto blinks, shocked. Sousuke’s lips quirk a little and he shrugs.

“I mean. If you’re willing, I guess. I get that you’re probably not too keen on doing anything for me right now. I showed you a side of me that you uh… probably didn’t need to see,” Sousuke trails off, rubbing at his shoulder and rolling it a little. It’s his left shoulder this time. Makoto wonders if his left shoulder is getting damaged as well due to him nursing his right one. He forces himself to tear his eyes away and look back up at Sousuke’s face.

“You’ve had those feelings bottled up inside of you for a long time. I’m glad you took it out on me and not someone important,” Makoto says. Sousuke gives him a troubled look, then sighs. Makoto just grins at him. “I was actually just thinking that I want to keep swimming. You can watch me if you want.”

“Cool. Get warmed up while I take a quick shower,” Sousuke says, jerking his thumb towards the locker room. He’s about to leave before he pauses. “And… warm up well. I don’t want you straining yourself.”

He leaves Makoto to gaze after him blankly. His eyelids droop a little more than usual as he sways on his feet. It takes him a full minute before he snaps back to reality and returns to the pool, where he begins to stretch and warm up his arms and legs. He immerses himself in the rhythm. One, two, three four…

“You need to stretch your back, not just your arms and legs.”

He’s been stretching for fifteen minutes when he hears Sousuke’s voice. He jumps at the sudden sound and turns to see him only a few feet away, walking towards him.

“Seriously. You’ll injure yourself if you don’t stretch it properly,” Sousuke says. “Put your hands on the wall and bend over.”

“B-B-But I already did that one!”

“Yeah, I saw. Your form was a joke. Bend over.”

Pinching his lips together, Makoto does what he’s told, slowly bending so his back is parallel to the ground. Sousuke’s standing too close to him. Makoto tenses when he feels Sousuke’s fingers tracing along his spine. That can’t _possibly_ be necessary--

“Bring your arms up and your chest down more. If you’re a backstroke swimmer, you have to keep your shoulders loose. Don’t let gravity put excess strain on you. Don’t put your entire weight against the wall like that! The backstroke can fuck up a shoulder just as bad as the butterfly, you know. _No_. Do it like this.”

Makoto’s eyes widen as Sousuke applies pressure on his back right between his shoulder blades. The muscles behind his thighs stretch and burn as he does, making him want to slouch his back. Sousuke’s other hand slides across his rib cage and to the center of his chest, balancing him and forcing him to keep straight. Makoto shivers with his touch and his eyes flutter shut.

“Keep your back straight.”

Breathing hard, Makoto lets Sousuke shape his form. His hands are slid up the wall to stretch them up and back. Ridiculously embarrassing sounds keep coming out of his mouth as his back stretches more.

“Exhale and hold,” Sousuke commands. His voice is dangerously low as his hands glide over Makoto’s back, forcing his back to remain rigidly straight as he presses his knuckles against the ridges of his spine.

“Sou… _suke_ ,” Makoto wheezes.

“It’s tight because you’re not stretching properly. If this is the reason you get injured one of these days, you’ll feel like an idiot for the rest of your life.”

“It burns!” Makoto whimpers. His thighs and calves feel like they’re on fire, quivering and threatening to give out.

“Yeah, of course it burns, you’ve been doing it _wrong_ ,” Sousuke snaps. “Ten more seconds.”

Ten seconds feel like an eternity, and Makoto whines through all of it. When it’s over, Sousuke finally lets the pressure off his back and Makoto straightens, bringing his shaking arms down as he leans heavily against the wall. Sousuke crosses his arms and stands over him like a parent scolding a child.

“If you want to keep swimming on any level, you need to be properly stretched out,” he lectures. Makoto pouts at him. “But you feel properly stretched out now, don’t you?”

Makoto can’t lie, he does feel much more flexible and stretched out now, his muscles loosened enough that he won’t cramp up in the water. He nods and Sousuke nods back at him.

“See? You can’t just stretch in ways that feel comfortable. You have to push your body little by little. There’s a sweet spot between not pushing your body at all and pushing it too much. You will get results there, not by half-assing it,” Sousuke says. Makoto sighs and pushes off the wall, doing one more arm stretch as he walks towards the starting block. Sousuke follows, hands in the pockets of his hoodie.

“You’ve been studying this a lot, haven’t you?” Makoto asks, stepping up onto the starting block and looking down at Sousuke while he stretches his goggles out on his head.

“Yes, I have. Self-study. Classes. Physical therapy. I want to prevent _this_ from happening to other people,” Sousuke says. He gestures to his shoulder. “To be cut short from your dream because of something that could’ve been prevented is the most painful thing a person can experience. Also, get in the water. I want to see your backstroke, not your front crawl.”

Makoto bites his lip. He hasn’t done backstroke since… well, nationals last year. Any other time since then has never been serious, just casual swimming. However, he nods, gets off the starting block, and slides into the water. Taking a deep breath, he lowers his goggles over his eyes. He gets into the position, hanging off of the bar. As he hangs there, waiting, Sousuke swings his leg over the starting block and straddles it. Makoto swallows, hoping Sousuke can’t see him staring straight at his abdomen through the green tint of his goggles.

“Take your marks,” Sousuke says. Makoto pulls himself up, suspended for a moment almost completely out of the water. He inhales through his nose as he does and holds it. “Set. Go.”

Power erupts from Makoto’s legs and he pushes off the wall like a loaded spring. Back arching, he dives backwards into the water. For a moment, he’s surrounded by complete and utter silence. His dolphin kick has never been that fast, but as he surfaces, he breaks into an explosive stroke that makes him surge forward through the water. Breaths ragged and husky, he powers through the water as fast as he can.

He pushes himself hard. Not only does he want to prove to Sousuke that his power cannot be overlooked, but to himself as well. It’s been a long time since he has practiced. As he swims at full power, he feels as though muscles deep in his body are coming alive. Electricity crackles along his bones and he sees electric blue sparks in his vision.

With the limited light, he can’t see the flags hanging over the pool very well, forcing him to slow down a little and commit to an open turn instead of a backstroke turn. Despite his slow-down, he musters up the strength to get back up to speed. He pushes and pushes until he’s grunting with every dynamic kick of his legs. The water resists his advances, but he plows through with all of the strength in his body. He hits the wall with his hand and twists in the water, gripping the wall with quivering fingers. He sucks in huge gulps of air, sinking partway into the water as his limbs scream at him for pushing himself so hard.

“You’re so out of shape already,” Sousuke comments when Makoto has caught his breath. Makoto’s brows knit and he bows his head. Deep down, he knows it’s true but it still stings to hear Sousuke say it so bluntly. “Don’t take that as an insult. The strength is still there. You just need to keep it polished. Also, your stroke is good but your underwater phase is sloppy.”

“Jeez. I thought you just wanted to see my backstroke!” Makoto whines. Sousuke chuckles and stands from the starting block. Makoto half expect him to offer him a hand, but remembers what he said about straining himself. His limbs really don’t want to cooperate with him, but Makoto forces his arms up onto the edge of the pool and hauls himself out. His heavy body aching to submit to gravity, Makoto barely makes it out without slipping back into the water. When he’s on his feet, Makoto tries to take a step forward and lets out a half-gasp, half-moan as his legs buckle a little. Sousuke takes a step back and puts two steadying hands on his shoulders, holding him upright as he catches his breath.

“Easy there,” he murmurs.

“Thanks,” Makoto sighs.

“Oh, and if your body is that exhausted after only a hundred meters, you really _are_ out of shape.”

“I get it already!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friend [Diana](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a preemptive warning that I want to get out there before we get into the relationship portion of this fanfiction, but something that I feel needs to be said. As many of you are aware, most 'traditional' yaoi manga, anime, etc. all have a pretty problematic element to them: glorified situations of rape, abuse, and harassment. For many people reading/watching this stuff, this sort of behavior has become normalized to the point that they may say/do things that are unacceptable. This includes any comments on my fanfiction containing the words 'rape', 'molest', or any variant of the words and turning it into something that is good or even 'cute'. Listen; I have a lot of experience in slash writing. The last time I wrote anything for an actual anime was waaaay back in 2010-2011 when I wrote a stupid fanfiction about a yaoi that did, indeed, glorify rape, abuse, and harassment. As expected, my fanfiction also normalized and glorified these things. It is problematic now, and it was problematic then, and I accept that and have learned from it.
> 
> So just as I have learned from my mistakes, I want everyone to assess their behavior and learn from your mistakes if you have made any in regards to glorification of harmful things. I want to make sure that this fanfiction is a safe space for everyone both on MY side (writing) and YOUR side (comments). There have been no comments that have blatantly said any of these words yet, but there have been a few both on the AO3 side and the tumblr side that have kind of... toed the line. This is a plea from the author herself, who is delivering this free entertainment to you: please don't trivialize rape, abuse, or harassment in the comments. Or anywhere, even! Please realize that when you say "Rape him!!! xD <3" or "Molest him!!! :3" in a way that is supposed to be 'cute' or 'funny', there are real rape and abuse victims out there who are being hurt by what you're saying. Furthermore; Future Earth, Future Sky will not be having *any* forms of abuse in it. I do not believe fanfiction, especially about happy li'l swimmers, is a proper medium to portray dark events such as those. You read fanfiction to escape and enjoy yourself, right? Angst and struggle is good, yes, and there certainly will be a lot of that, but it won't come to you in the form of ***DARK TOPICS*** just to try and get a reaction out of you. That in and of itself is bad writing, and something I do not subscribe to.
> 
> Okay! Bad stuff over. Let's get to it.

“So… Haru, if someone you basically just met shows a side of them they probably have never shown anyone, how would you react?”

Makoto looks over at Haru, who is staring vacantly into a fish tank. Since it’s the weekend, the two of them decided to go window-shopping together. Makoto doesn’t have any Friday classes, a huge benefit to university life. It gives him so much more free time, especially with Haru, who has Thursdays and Fridays off from training. Haru straightens, not taking his eyes off of the clown fish swimming around in the saltwater tank. For some reason or another, they decided to go to a pet shop to look at all the different types of fish. Makoto, however, is much more interested in the cat pens.

“It depends who it is,” Haru says. He doesn’t sound too interested in the conversation. “And it depends on how they feel about it, too.”

“I see,” Makoto hums. He looks up at the ceiling, then wanders to a round tank that has baby stingrays swimming along the sand at the bottom. He keeps somewhat of a close eye on Haru. As far as he knows, he doesn’t have his swimsuit on underneath his pants, but he can never be too sure. He’s ready to pounce and restrain if he has to. For now, all he can do is keep Haru occupied with vague questions. “Well, what if it was a big thing? Like… everything was so pent up for so long that it all came just pouring out to the first person who would listen. How do you… respond to that?”

“Sounds like a weird person. But not surprising,” Haru says curtly. Makoto squints at him. Haru keeps staring at a tank that’s a little too close to the floor for Makoto’s liking. His fingers also keep fiddling with his top shirt button. “Maybe that person doesn’t have the confidence to tell their closest loved ones. It’s how I felt with you, last year. I didn’t want _you_ to worry, so I didn’t express _my_ worries. And… wait, who are you talking about?”

Shoot, he caught on. Haru flicks his steel blue gaze to Makoto, suspicion written across his features.

“Did something happen?” he asks. Makoto shakes his head.

“It’s a… um, oh, an acquaintance from my class recently confided in me and they had a lot on their chest. I was a little surprised when they let out their frustration on me, is all. We don’t really know each other that well. And now… I think we’ve become closer because of it. Definitely closer. But I don’t really know how to treat them now. I haven’t spoken to them since,” Makoto says, choosing his words carefully. Haru huffs a little and purses his thin lips.

“This sounds suspicious. Makoto, are you hiding something from me?”

Makoto sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, gnawing it. He really, really can’t lie and it’s painfully obvious. Haru loses interest in the fish tank and gets in Makoto’s face, looking at him with unmoving, half-lidded eyes.

“I’m not hiding anything! I’m telling the truth!” Makoto wails.

“Is this person a boy?” Haru asks quietly. Makoto’s face lights up like a firecracker and he avoids Haru’s eyes like his life depends on it. “It _is_ a boy.”

Haru abruptly backs out of Makoto’s space, leaving him flustered and fidgety.

“You don’t have to hide that sort of thing from me,” Haru says. Returning his attention to a fish tank, he watches a clownfish swim into an anemone. “You don’t have to be afraid to hide _anything_ from me. But… I won’t force it out of you.”

Makoto tilts his head and watches the profile of Haru’s face. His prim lips are downturned but there’s a smile in his eyes.

“More than anything else, I want you to be happy,” Haru says. His voice is quiet when he says it, like he’s been holding it in but hasn’t been able to find the right time to say it. “And to be held, romantically.”

Haru starts to fidget, stroking some hair behind his ear. The words sound awkward coming out of his mouth--so much so that even Makoto feels embarrassed. He really has grown a lot since coming back from Australia and graduating. Two years ago, even one year ago, he would never have said such a thing out loud. It makes Makoto feel warm inside.

“Thank you,” he says after a long pause.

“Don’t make anything weird out of it, I’m just… telling you how I feel. I _do_ know how lonely you get, you know,” Haru continues. He picks at a nail. “Or… something.”

Makoto laughs. He’s just forcing himself now. He puts a hand on his shoulder for a moment.

“I appreciate you thinking of me,” he says, and leaves it at that. Haru doesn’t say anything more, but he does appear to be livelier as they continue watching fish.

Later that evening they have dinner together at a small ramen restaurant (far away from downtown Tokyo, thank god). While Makoto goes over some class notes, Haru talks to him about his training regime and how much of a pain it is. Despite the way he complains about it, Makoto can already tell it’s taking effect. Lately, Haru has been looking even more trim than usual. It makes Makoto a little self-conscious, actually, since he’s lost so much muscle mass. It’s not enough to make him completely noodly just yet, but he’s definitely not as big as he was at the end of high school. He knows he should be working out, but his classes are already exhausting and he’s usually too tired to do much of anything after such mental strain.

“I meant to mention this before. You’re losing weight,” Haru suddenly comments, giving Makoto a once-over. Makoto blinks, surprised at the timing of him bringing that up. “Have you been working out at all?”

“No,” Makoto says sheepishly. “I really should, but I’ve been so busy with trying to get used to university life.”

“Coach Kento says a swimmer’s diet can get out of hand if left unchecked. If you keep eating as much as you did when you were exercising so much every day, you’ll develop unhealthy habits,” Haru says. Makoto raises his eyebrows. So Haru _has_ been listening to his coach. Even though he’s feeling pretty bummed about his body, he feels a swell of pride knowing that Haru is learning something from his training experience. “If you’re not swimming, I don’t think you should work as hard… but you shouldn’t eat like a swimmer, either.”

Makoto looks down at his ramen bowl. It’s very, very high in protein, but he hasn’t been working out, so he really shouldn’t be indulging so much.

But it’s so tasty.

He snatches up a piece of beef with his chopsticks and chomps down on it almost spitefully. Haru gives a disapproving sigh next to him but doesn’t deny him his meal. As Makoto eats, his mind wanders to Sousuke. He wonders if he’s facing the same issue. Then again, he looks just as muscular as he did back at regionals, so he’s probably still working out a lot. Maybe Makoto should work out with him sometime, if he’s willing.

He thinks about Sousuke’s arms and how powerful they are. Despite his bad shoulder, they’re probably the most powerful muscles in his body. That and his back. And his abs. And his thighs, too. Hips… glutes… can’t forget those. Makoto stares dazedly off into the distance, mouth hanging open as he lifts his chopsticks to his lips. The noodles slide off his chopsticks before he gets it to his mouth and he ends up jabbing his gums.

“Makoto?”

Makoto straightens, clearing his throat pointedly and trying to will the blush off of his cheeks. He tries to ignore Haru staring a hole in the side of his head and slurps up a mouthful of broth.

\---

It’s around ten in the evening when they get back. They return to the sound of Haru’s laptop going off in the living room, where they find that Rei has been trying to video call them on Skype for about an hour. Haru kicks off his shoes (Makoto straightens them neatly at the door) and goes to his laptop, where he flops down on a cushion beside the table and answers.

Nagisa, Rei, and Gou all appear on the screen, their faces smooshed together as they smile widely.

“Makoto-senpai!” “Mako-chan!” “Haruka-senpai!” “Senpai!” “Haru-chan!” comes the tumultuous cry, making Makoto laugh as he joins Haru on the floor in front of the laptop’s built-in webcam.

“We’ve been trying to call you all night!” Nagisa whines. Haru huffs at him while Makoto just smiles.

“You were only calling for an hour. Relax,” Haru says petulantly. Nagisa makes a loud whining noise as he slumps against Rei.

“Nagisa-kun, you’re heavy! It’s so great to see you both!” Rei says, focusing on Makoto and Haru after shoving Nagisa off of him and onto Gou, who just bounces excitedly.

“How’s university?” she asks. “Is it fun?”

“Is everyone beautiful?” Rei blurts. Nagisa giggles, getting really close to the webcam and filling the screen with his eyeball.

“Did you find cute girls?” he asks.

“No-o,” Haru drawls, eyebrows furrowed. He turns his head away from the screen and crosses his arms. Nagisa pouts.

“But Haru-chan--”

“I’m sure both of them are very busy with studies and practicing,” Rei says. He pushes up his glasses and upturns his nose in a very Rei-esque fashion.

“Makoto-senpai, your muscles are looking a little deflated--”

“Gou-san, that’s so rude. _His muscles are fine!_ ”

“Awww, Gou-chan, that’s mean!”

“No, no, I need to work out, I know,” Makoto assures them, holding up his hands to try and diffuse the situation. It doesn’t work as well when he’s not there in person.

“Haruka-senpai is looking great, though!” Gou comments, moving closer to the screen. “Wow! Your muscles look _incredible_.”

“They do _not_ ,” Haru denies immediately. Makoto titters into his hand. Meanwhile, Nagisa disappears from the screen and footsteps can be heard walking away from the laptop. While he’s gone, Gou sits back on her heels and suddenly grabs Rei.

“Look at Rei-kun! Doesn’t he look amazing?!” she asks, grabbing Rei’s arm and pushing it upwards. “C’mon, flex it again like you did earlier!”

“M-M-Makoto-senpai and Haruka-senpai don’t need to see!” Rei splutters. His face goes beet red as Gou stretches and tugs at him, eyes wild with embarrassment. Makoto smiles at the interaction. He wonders if there has been a development in their relationship. They’re certainly closer. When Makoto looks at Haru, he knows that he’s thinking about that, too. “G-Gou-san…!”

Gou releases Rei and he adjusts his glasses with shaking hands.

“Man, we miss you guys so much,” Nagisa says, face appearing on camera again, this time with a popsicle handing from his lips. “Club is really fun, still, even without you here. But we still miss you. Are you going to come back sometime to visit us?”

“Of course,” Makoto says. “We’re coming back to Iwatobi on the weekend that you guys have prefecturals so we can come cheer you on. Isn’t that right, Haru?”

Haru nods and the three third-years on the other side cheer so loud it distorts the sound on Haru’s laptop.

“You will be amazed when you see my beautiful swimming!” Rei boasts, placing a hand dramatically on his chest as he upturns his nose. “I am happy to announce that I will be swimming in the 800m freestyle!”

Makoto and Haru’s eyes widen as Rei lets out a borderline maniacal laugh. Gou leans forward.

“You wouldn’t believe it if you saw it! Rei-kun made an amazing discovery this season!” Gou praises. Rei’s laughter halts and he turns bashful again at Gou’s praise, scratching at his cheek.

“Rei-chan is really good at pacing himself,” Nagisa adds. “He might not be _fast_ in the freestyle, but he can definitely go the longest without getting tired!”

“That’s incredible, Rei!” Makoto gushes. Rei hunches his shoulders, looking like he wants to hide in the collar of his shirt.

“Oh, it’s n-not…” he stammers, waving his hand as if to shoo everyone.

“How about you, Haru-chan?” Nagisa asks. He puts his face up close to the webcam again. “What will you be swimming in your tournaments?”

“I only swim freestyle,” Haru recites, which makes everyone laugh.

“Haruka-senpai, _never_ change,” Rei sighs dreamily. Makoto groans. Rei puts Haru on such a high pedestal sometimes. He doesn’t have the heart to tell him that Haru does things that are 100% not beautiful on an almost hourly basis. In fact, right now Haru is tracking a fly with his eyes seconds before throwing his arms out and slapping his hands together. The room goes completely silent until the fly suddenly buzzes out from between his palms. Determined, Haru wanders away from the laptop and stalks the fly like a cat. Rei looks like he just witnessed some great crime against God himself.

“Mako-chan, you never answered my question,” Nagisa drawls, leaning forward with his chin in his palms. “Have you met any pretty girls?”

“I must admit, I’m relatively curious myself,” Rei adds. He primly pushes up his glasses. “…As I recall, Makoto-senpai, you’ve never had any sort of romantic encounter as long as I’ve known you. I’m eager to find out your taste in women.”

“I wanna know, too!” Gou chimes.

“Umm… that is…” Makoto fumbles. He fidgets, not really knowing what to do. “Well, you see--”

“He’s not interested in women,” Haru interrupts, returning to Makoto’s side with freshly washed hands. Makoto freezes, blood running cold. As Haru sits, he looks over at Makoto. His lips are downturned into a serious frown. “I think they deserve to know. They’ll understand.”

Haru reaches over and puts a very gentle hand on Makoto’s thigh. It instantly relaxes him, making his hunched shoulders slump as he exhales slowly.

“Everyone…” he begins. He really didn’t expect to do this _today_ , but he supposes he had to do it at some point. The original plan was to tell them after he graduated, anyway. Now or a year from now, it doesn’t make much of a difference. “I’m attracted to men. I’m gay.”

Silence. Makoto tenses. Maybe they wouldn’t be accepting after all?

“Then have you met any pretty _boys?_ ” Nagisa asks, not blinking at all. “You _still_ didn’t answer the question, Mako-chan.”

Makoto looks up, eyes wavering and vulnerable as he wrings his hands. Rei, Gou, and Nagisa seem unfazed.

“Nagisa-kun, I believe the proper term would be _handsome_ boys.”

“Boys can be pretty!” Nagisa protests. “ _I’m_ pretty. Rei-chan is pretty, too.”

“Don’t be so cocky! And I’d prefer the term _beautiful_ \--”

“I for one also think Haruka-senpai is pretty,” Gou says. She nods sagely. Her mouth suddenly pops open. “Wait! Makoto-senpai, does that mean you and Haruka-senpai…?!”

Rei and Nagisa both take in huge gasps, and suddenly all three of them are trying to crowd into the screen together.

“No! Haru and I are just friends,” Makoto says. “I don’t think of him that way.”

“What about me?! I for one would be _honored_ if you had a crush on me, Makoto-senpai.”

“No, me! Mako-chan said I would make a good boyfriend once.”

“He said that about everyone!”

“Makoto-senpai, I know someone with great muscles you could meet!”

Makoto’s smile turns uncomfortable as he holds up his hands in surrender and physically leans away from the screen. He sees Haru glance at him, then turn his sharp gaze to the laptop screen.

“Enough!” he snaps. Everyone immediately stops talking all at once. “Makoto doesn’t think that way about neither Rei nor Nagisa, and nobody you introduce him to. He isn’t a plaything for you to pair yourself or others with.”

Makoto looks over to Haru, who looks very irritated and protective. Rei, Nagisa, and Gou all bow their heads apologetically.

“Haru,” he murmurs. He beams at his best friend, thankful he’s looking out for him. “Thank you. But it’s okay. I know it’s a big thing to take in, and you’re all excited. But, um… I promise you I’m not interested in any of you. Um, no offense...”

“Sorry, Mako-chan.” “I apologize for being presumptuous, Makoto-senpai.” “Sorry…” the three of them apologize simultaneously.

“It’s okay,” Makoto reassures them, waving his hands. Beside him, Haru looks at him again to make sure he’s really okay. “B-But… it’s true what they say. There are very attractive people in Tokyo.”

He rubs his hands together and his cheeks begin to heat up. He squirms a little bit and looks anywhere but the laptop screen.

“A-And… there may or may not be… someone attractive… in one of my classes,” Makoto manages. Nagisa’s face immediately lights up, but Haru gives him a warning look before he can start asking prying questions.

“Go for it, Mako-chan!” Nagisa cheers. Rei nods.

“We’re all rooting for you, Makoto-senpai!” he says.

Gou, however, doesn’t say anything and just stares at Makoto from her side. Makoto can tell she’s putting some puzzle pieces together. He avoids looking at her as best as he can.

“Thank you, everyone. And… thank you for being supportive,” he says. Nagisa shakes his head.

“Mako-chan, we love you too much to let something like that ruin our friendship!” he says. Rei nods in agreement.

“I agree with Nagisa-kun. Makoto-senpai, you have been so supportive to us in the past. You have always put our needs before you own, and have always worked very hard to help us exceed. When you were captain, I thought I could never be able to stand on your level. But I’m captain now, because you gave me the confidence and determination I needed. I have always, always considered you to be my role model,” Rei says. His voice wilts a little at the end as he blushes. “The least we can do, as your friends, is accept who you are with open arms.”

“Rei-chan, you put our feelings into words so well,” Nagisa chirps. “I agree with everything he said!”

“Me too,” Gou says.

Makoto feels his eyes water as he lets a huge smile spread over his face.

“You don’t know how wonderful it is to hear that from you three.”

\---

“I’m coming in.”

Makoto slips into the bathroom and approaches the tub, where Haru is soaking in hot water.

“Be careful you don’t overheat,” Makoto warns, pulling up a stool and sitting on it. He doesn’t think Haru is wearing a swimsuit as he bathes this time, much to his relief. “Are you bathing properly this time?”

“I always bathe properly,” Haru quips. Makoto just laughs. After a long pause, Haru opens his mouth to speak again. “I’m sorry for forcing you to tell them. I didn’t know they’d react like that. I should’ve at least asked you first.”

Makoto looks at Haru as he’s given a very concerned expression. He just shakes his head.

“No, I’ve been wanting to tell them, anyway. I don’t blame anyone. They just didn’t know their boundaries,” Makoto assures Haru. Haru nods before sinking down so he can blow bubbles in the water with his mouth. “But it was really surprising! Next time, warn me beforehand.”

“Okay,” Haru says, lifting his mouth from the water. Makoto stands.

“I’m going to put on pajamas. Don’t drown,” he teases, prompting Haru to squirt water at him with his cupped hands.

When Makoto goes back to Haru’s bedroom, the screen of his phone is lit up. He goes to it and checks his messages, finding they’re from Gou.

_Makoto-senpai, Sousuke-kun is in university with you, isn’t he? You can tell me. I won’t tell my brother if you don’t want me to._

Makoto nibbles his lip as he types a response.

_…Yes, he is here. Please don’t tell Rin. I want Sousuke to tell him for himself._

He sends the message and gets a response almost instantly.

_I promise I won’t. I just hope he’s doing okay. I’m worried for him._

Frowning as he pulls on some pajama shorts, Makoto flops down on Haru’s raised bed and stares at his phone for a moment or two before responding.

_I am too, Gou-kun. You’re not alone there._

There’s a long pause before Gou sends one last text message.

_Makoto-senpai? Are you attracted to Sousuke-kun?_

Makoto’s heart leaps. Sousuke? Well, he wouldn’t call it full-fledged interest. But regarding his body… Makoto is definitely attracted. Would that even count? But then again, there are other things about Sousuke that are attractive. The sound of his laugh is attractive. His smile is attractive. His brooding nature is attractive, even though it worries Makoto to no end. And when he thinks about those eyes, almost inhumanly teal and sharp as a blade… it makes him weak in the knees.

With trembling thumbs, Makoto taps out a response.

_Maybe just a little tiny bit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friend [Diana](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	6. Chapter 6

Sousuke hasn’t really spoken to Makoto since that night in the activity center. On one hand, Makoto is disappointed since they’re now on first-name basis with each other, but on the other it’s immensely relieving. Affirming his attraction to Sousuke with Gou really set him on edge. At first, he thought Sousuke would talk to him more, but it’s actually the exact opposite. He has maybe said a grand total of three words to him in the past week.

Makoto notices Sousuke very rarely takes notes in class. When he does, they’re sloppy and unfocused. He’s beginning to worry, since their first quiz is coming up next week. Makoto wonders if Sousuke knows the material or if he just doesn’t care. He’s itching to ask, but whenever he tries, he gets intimidated by the look on Sousuke’s face and can’t bring himself to say anything.

So he sits and waits. The days of the following week after the incident last Thursday night crawl by. Monday melts into Tuesday, which slips into Wednesday. It feels like the longest week of his life, and Makoto can practically feel his body processes slowing down when he gets to his English class. However, he’s been looking forward to his anatomy class all day, so he powers through until class is dismissed and heads straight over to the science building. With his heart throbbing in his chest, he takes his usual seat in the center of the third row and waits.

And waits.

Class starts and Sousuke hasn’t shown up yet. Makoto gazes wistfully at the spot where Sousuke usually sits right next to him, but no amount of staring will make Sousuke appear. Makoto spends the whole class period sulking as he takes his notes. He had been determined to talk to Sousuke today, despite the other’s hesitation. But now that Sousuke isn’t here, Makoto’s confidence has reverted back to zero.

While he mopes and keeps on glancing over at Sousuke’s empty chair, he doesn’t notice Sato watching him from behind.

\---

After class, Makoto forces himself to go to the gym. He can’t continue to laze around like this, or he’ll never be able to bounce back. He also desperately wants to get Sousuke off his mind. Makoto goes back to his dorm to grab his duffel bag and pack his gym clothes and swimsuit, and departs for the student activity center.

It’s really busy today. It’s the first time Makoto has been here during the day, and it’s chock full of both athletic and non-athletic students. He feels a little claustrophobic when he goes to the changing room, but he endures and packs his things in the locker he rented for the day. Grabbing his water bottle and iPod, Makoto heads to the track.

The track runs around the perimeter of the gymnasium, about twenty feet in the air. It provides a good line of sight down to the huge gym below. The gymnasium is actually made up three courts packed into one huge room, separated by large vinyl screens that descend and ascend wherever they’re needed via a control panel on the wall. The far left gym is hosting an unprofessional basketball game, and the far right gym is blasting cardio music, to which about forty people are dancing on-beat. Meanwhile, the volleyball team is holding practice in the middle gym. Each of the three courts also has a catwalk running over it for spectators to observe safely from above. The catwalks over the middle court are currently lined with interested students watching volleyball practice.

Makoto foregoes the catwalks and just jogs around the track, which is about four hundred meters all the way around. Other joggers pass him, but no matter how slow he goes, he forces himself to keep moving. The work up to the runner’s high he gets is always tough. It’s especially hard to get to that threshold between pain and bliss when he hasn’t exercised properly in months. There’s a stitch in his side by the third time around on the track, and he’s breathing hard. He hopes his panting doesn’t sound too weird, and tries to block it out by turning up the music playing through his earbuds.

He promises himself he’ll run eight laps before he lifts weights, but by lap four he’s almost feeling faint. Not wanting to have an embarrassing incident, Makoto pulls off to the side and takes a sip of water. He continues running in place, not wanting to lose his heart rate completely. Once he’s gotten a chance to catch his breath, he starts up again and works through the burn and the pain until he feels it.

Runner’s high is probably his favorite thing about working out. The pain ebbs and all he feels is the stretch of his muscles as his heart pounds against his ribcage. He runs to the beat of his music and he can feel the impact running up his bones every time he hears the thrumming of the drum. Lap seven is a breeze, and lap eight has him feeling a little wobbly but nice and warmed up.

Wiping the sweat from his face and arms with paper towels he got from a nearby dispenser, Makoto makes his way to the weightlifting room feeling confident and ready to go. The moment he enters, the atmosphere changes, however. Many of the people in the room look over at him to check out the new face. Most of them get back to what they were doing, but a few of the other men give him once-overs, as if sizing him up. It’s very, very intimidating seeing body builders in here, both men _and_ women who are way bigger than him. They could probably crush him.

Scanning the room, Makoto spots Aiko and Hana in front of the mirrors, both of them doing lunges with weights in their hands. Hana’s got five pound weights in her hands, while Aiko’s got a twenty pound weight in either hand. They both look like they’re very into it, so Makoto only gives them a smile and a wave before searching for some available equipment.

There’s a butterfly machine that’s open next to a cable machine. Makoto makes a beeline towards it, careful to avoid getting his toes smashed by a group of loud, obnoxious men who keep dropping their weights on the floor. The signs _clearly_ say not to drop the weights, but Makoto isn’t about to tell them that.

Setting his things down on the floor beside him, Makoto takes a seat and settles into the butterfly machine and is about to press play on his iPod when he hears a voice beside him.

“Makoto. I was wondering when I’d see you here.”

Makoto looks up and to the right and lays his eyes on Sousuke, who had been standing at the cable machine the whole time. He has a muscle shirt on, which reveals the shoulder stabilizer he’s wearing underneath it. Makoto takes a peek at the weight he’s lifting. He’s only lifting twenty pounds right now, gently pulling his arm back as he works his bad shoulder. He’s facing the machine with his back to the rest of the room, pulling from the front instead of from behind.

“Is that okay?” Makoto asks, concerned. Sousuke nods. He looks kind of mellowed out, his eyes droopier than usual and a neutral look on his face.

“Mmhm,” he hums.

“Does it hurt?”

“Nah. But any more weight than this and I’d be in a world of hurt,” he chuckles grimly. “So I guess I’m stuck at twenty. What a joke.”

“I see,” Makoto says with a frown. He sets his own weights to twenty, wanting to get his muscles warmed up before moving higher. Sousuke keeps side-eyeing him, glancing over every few seconds or so until he pauses in his weightlifting.

“Keep your back straight,” he says. Makoto blinks and obeys, shifting in his seat. Exhaling while he brings his arms together in front of his body, he looks up at Sousuke for approval. Sousuke nods mutely but continues to watch Makoto. His scrutiny has Makoto sweating more than usual. “Dude, you gonna stay at twenty pounds all day?”

“…Oh,” Makoto says. He wonders if they turned up the heat in here or something, because he’s feeling a little dazed. He doubles the weight to forty pounds. It’s still relatively easy to lift, but he remains at this weight and works himself up to a nice burn.

“That’s it,” Sousuke mutters. Makoto just barely hears it, but looks up at Sousuke anyway. He hadn’t been talking about Makoto. While he wasn’t looking, Sousuke had moved his own weight up to thirty.

“Sousuke,” Makoto says. “Aren’t you--?”

“No. Shh,” Sousuke hushes. He closes his eyes as he focuses on pulling his arm back. Makoto watches him do this until he sees Sousuke make a sudden pained face. He falters, abruptly letting the weights fall as he grits his teeth. Makoto worries his lip between his teeth. If Sousuke’s at his threshold at only thirty pounds of weight, he must really be in pain. “Ouch.”

Makoto watches as he lets his arm fall. But instead of angry, Sousuke just looks resigned. Sad, almost. With a sigh, Sousuke moves the weight back down to twenty pounds, then turns his back to the machine, sits down on the bench in front of it, and begins pulling forward from behind. He looks bored. Makoto doesn’t bother asking him if he’s okay, because he knows he’s not. Instead, he lifts silently beside him. The pleasant, lingering burn in his shoulders and chest has him grunting softly with each pull forward. Sweat beads at his forehead and slip down his face in thick droplets. He forgot how much he thoroughly enjoys this. The other intimidating men and women in the gym don’t matter anymore. All he feels is this pleasant ache.

He tips his head back against the padding of the sturdy machine behind him, unaware of the facial expressions he’s making. It’s borderline erotic. When he’s done, he rolls his head forward and extracts his weary limbs from the machine. He slides forward on the bench and stoops down to grab his water bottle. As he drinks from it, he glances at Sousuke, who has stopped lifting entirely and is openly staring at him.

“What is it?” Makoto asks, wiping his moistened lips. “Was my form wrong?”

“No. You were making some interesting faces, though,” Sousuke drawls, turning his head away and chuckling. “You must _really_ like exercising.”

He flashes a grin while Makoto tilts his head in confusion.

“Was I making a weird face?” he presses, getting nervous. What sort of face was he making?!

“Weird isn’t what I’d call it,” Sousuke remarks. He rolls his eyes and releases the handle of the cable, letting his weights crash back down. “C’mon, you can’t work one machine all day. Let’s do some bench presses. I’ll spot you.”

“Sure,” Makoto says, wiping the sweat from his face with the collar of his shirt. He stands from the machine, then goes to a nearby table and picks up some machine cleaning supplies, which he uses to sanitize his spot. It’s something he has seen only a few others doing. The loud men in the center of the gym who keep dropping their weights are not one of them.

Sousuke leads Makoto to a bench press, where Makoto grabs two forty-five pound weights and slides them on either side of the bar. As he climbs onto the bench, he happens to look at Sousuke, who’s looking at the weights disapprovingly.

“You should probably start just warming up with the bar. It’s forty five pounds by itself, you know,” Sousuke says. Makoto huffs a little at him.

“I know that. I used to warm up with two hundred pounds. I think I can handle one-thirty-five,” he says. Sousuke doesn’t say anything more, but just shrugs. As Makoto lies down, Sousuke swings his leg over the bench and positions himself to spot Makoto’s lifting. This is just fine and dandy, but when Sousuke inches closer to the bar, his crotch is practically right above Makoto’s forehead. Great.

“I’m ready when you are,” Sousuke says, hovering his hands just under the bar. Makoto swallows, trying not to look directly upwards as he reaches up to grasp the bar. He lifts it from the pegs, exhaling when the full weight of the bar presses against him. Makoto begins his first set, pumping the weights easily. The familiar burn rises in his chest, blossoming from the center and traveling up his arms. Five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, rest.

“See? I told you,” Makoto says. Sousuke chuckles.

“Good. I was afraid I’d have to swoop in at the last second and stop you from breaking yourself,” Sousuke teases. He smirks. “Want more weight?”

“Yeah. Another ten pounds on both sides.”

Sousuke complies and Makoto does another set of ten. By the end of it, his muscles are struggling a little with the bar. He’s getting closer to his threshold. A hundred and fifty five pounds is okay, but not ideal. Again feeling regretful for not staying on top of his physical fitness, he looks up at Sousuke.

“Take off the tens and put twenty-fives on,” he says. Sousuke hesitates but nods anyway, adding an additional fifty pounds to the one hundred and thirty five he started with. This time, Makoto goes much slower, his arms already shaking as he does the first rep. He does a second, then barely is able to finish a third. On his fourth, he’s struggling with all his might to lift the bar. Muscles screaming, he lets out loud grunts as he shoves and shoves.

“C’mon, big guy,” Sousuke murmurs, his hands already grasping the bar. “Don’t let it fall. Don’t think my shoulder can take this much weight right now.”

At that, Makoto sets his jaw and lets out a loud snarl as he shoves with all his might and manages to lift the bar back onto the pegs. Sweating profusely and feeling like jelly, he sits up on the bench and takes another swig of water.

The effects of exercise fill him, once more flushing him with endorphins and making a pleasant weariness wash over him.

“Nice job,” Sousuke says. Makoto feels something dry hit his shoulder and he sees a small towel there, courtesy of Sousuke. “Let’s wrap it up and cool down on the track. Then we can go to the wrestling room and stretch it out.”

Nodding, Makoto gets up from the bench, sanitizes it, then dabs the sweat off his forehead and neck. He follows Sousuke out of the weightlifting room and back to the gymnasium. They jog two laps around the track, warming up their muscles one last time before they go to the wrestling room, which is about the size of a classroom and padded from floor to ceiling.

“What’d I miss in class today?” Sousuke asks as he allows Makoto to use his good shoulder to balance as he lifts one foot and pulls it up flush against the back of his thigh.

“We went over upper body joints. You would’ve been interested,” Makoto says. Sousuke shrugs and steadies Makoto when he nearly loses balance.

“Nah. I know everything there needs to be known about anatomy. It’s basically all I’ve cared about for the past two years.”

“Maybe the common sense stuff, but do you know technical terms?” Makoto asks, holding onto Sousuke’s elbow as he takes his turn balancing on one foot. “We have a quiz next week Monday. You might feel like you know everything, but…”

“I do,” Sousuke snaps a bit harshly.

“Sorry,” Makoto sighs. They stretch their arms together, then bend down to touch their toes. Sousuke can only touch his toes with his left hand (keeping his right arm pulled up against his body) while Makoto can get the tips of his fingers maybe down to the tops of his ankles. He’s never been that flexible. When Makoto straightens again, he does some more arm stretches and watches Sousuke out of the corner of his eye. He’s so, so strong. Back in high school, Makoto remembers being about his size. Now he feels like he has been surpassed, which fills him with a weird sense of envy slash admiration. On one hand, he wants to be as muscular as Sousuke is. On the other hand…

His thoughts are interrupted as Sousuke takes a long drink from his water bottle, his head tipping back as he gulps it down. A droplet runs down the side of his chin and, when he pulls away, a string of saliva sticks between his lips and the water bottle.

Makoto feels a sudden jolt of warmth hit him right in his lower abdomen, like a weight is settling in his belly and pushing downwards. He feels a sudden, desperate need to be touched by Sousuke’s hands, a need to touch him with his own hands, trace his fingers along the fine contours of his muscles. He wants to kiss that flesh and taste the saltiness of his sweat, and he wants those same lips gliding along his pecs and down the middle of his stomach and—

Makoto has never been so thirsty in all of the eighteen years of his life, and not in the literal sense. Thirsty for a man. Sousuke, to be exact.

“Yo. _Yooo_ , Makoto,” Sousuke says, voice getting louder as he speaks. “Earth to daydreamer. You coming to shower or what?”

It takes a long time for Makoto to react and follow Sousuke out of the padded warm-up/cool-down room. They go to the showers together, where Makoto is very quick to throw off his gym clothes, wrap a towel around his waist, and make a dash to the showers before Sousuke. He turns on the cold water and douses himself in it. The drop in temperature makes his body tense up, and he knows it’s not good for his muscles, but he has to get rid of the heat in his body as quickly as he can.

Sousuke comes in a moment later and chooses a shower on the opposite side of the room, much to Makoto’s relief. However, they’re alone, which makes his nerves stand on end. Once he’s cooled down enough to focus, he turns the hot water up and returns to a regular showering routine.

“…Hey, Sousuke?” Makoto suddenly asks. He can hear the Velcro of Sousuke’s shoulder stabilizer as he peels it off of him, then the squeak of the faucet as he turns on the water.

“Yeah?” Sousuke replies.

“Have you been avoiding me since… the thing that happened last Thursday night?” Makoto asks. Sousuke’s quiet for a long time.

“To be honest, I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore,” he admits. “Which I could understand. Some guy you just met throwing a fit right in front of you? It must have been pretty shocking.”

“Not really…” Makoto trails off. He lets out a soft laugh. “If you needed to let out some bottled-up frustration, I wasn’t about to deny you that. Even the best of us get angry.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Sousuke says. Makoto doesn’t have to look at him to hear the smile in his voice. They’re quiet again for a long time, scrubbing their hair silently before rinsing themselves clean. Makoto is the first to turn his shower off and wrap a towel around his waist before turning around. Sousuke turns at the same time and, in a very unfortunate downturn of his eyes, Makoto gets an eyeful of what Sousuke’s packing. Oh. Holy _shi_ \--

_Don’t freak out don’t freak out don’t freak out, just look away but not too quickly. Keep the blush down. Don’t look him in the eye. Just go back to the locker room. It’s okay, it happens all the time. He didn’t notice and he doesn’t care. Whatever you do, don’t look him in the eye. Just turn around and walk away._

Straight-backed, Makoto goes to the locker room and unlocks his locker. He pulls out his boxers first and steps into them, pulling them up under his towel. He puts on his sweatpants next, and only then does he remove the towel completely and use it to rub his wet hair. When he brings the towel back down, Sousuke is there, arms crossed as he leans up against the lockers to the immediate left of Makoto. He’s only wearing a towel. Makoto suppresses the urge to let out a squeal of shock at Sousuke’s sudden arrival, pinching his lips together. This is it. This is where he punches Makoto’s lights out for looking for just a second too long. It was nice knowing this world.

“So. Makoto,” Sousuke draws out each vowel individually. Makoto’s lips are twitching as he tries to smile, but he can’t make his jaw stay still. Flushing up to the tips of his ears, he clears his throat before speaking.

“Y-Yeah…?”

He doesn’t speak for a few moments, which feel like an eternity to Makoto, who is shaking so hard his teeth are about to start chattering.

“We should do this again sometime,” Sousuke says. “Let’s make a routine of it. We’ll get you _shredded_.”

Sousuke gives Makoto a playful punch in the shoulder, then turns and walks away to his own locker. The breath Makoto releases is so explosive he’s surprised he didn’t knock down the lockers.

Heart pounding hard in his chest, Makoto is forced to flop down on the bench next to his locker and take a few moments to calm down.

It’s going to be a long, _long_ semester.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friend [Diana](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> such a thirsty, thirsty boy

On Monday morning, Makoto wakes up to the sound of his phone going off. Rolling over in his bed, he fumbles around for his phone before bringing it to his ear.

“Mmm… Haru… I told you English is cancelled today… was gonna sleep in,” Makoto mumbles groggily, half of his face in his pillow. His voice is low and crackly as a yawn bubbles up from his belly. As his mouth stretches wide open, he lets out a squeaky sound and settles back into his pillow. He listens to the silence on the other end for a while before speaking up. “Mm. Did somethin’ happen? Haru?”

“Makoto.”

The voice on the other end is much, much deeper than he expected it to be. Did Haru get a new voice? Wait, Haru’s not in Tokyo right now, he’s up north for his tournament on Wednesday. He probably wouldn’t be calling right now, since he’s probably practicing. Wait…

It takes Makoto a full ten seconds before his head snaps up from his pillow. Pulling his phone away from his ear, he notices that it is certainly not Haru’s number. It’s Sousuke. Makoto nearly drops his phone as he brings it back to his ear.

“Sousuke! I’m sorry, I thought--”

“No big deal. Sorry to wake you, but open your door.”

Makoto sits up fully, rubs his eyes, and looks over at his door. He can see the shadow of two feet under the crack at the bottom.

“Oh… okay,” Makoto says. He slides out of bed and goes to his window first, opening the curtains to let in the light. He sneaks a glance at his alarm clock on his desk, which reads _7:08AM_. Squinting, he turns and goes to the door to open it. Sure enough, Sousuke is standing there. He’s got a hoodie on with his hood up and a pair of sweatpants. Makoto stares at him for a second, still too sleepy to register what exactly is going on. Sousuke lowers his phone and hangs up, prompting Makoto to do the same.

“Yo,” he says, waving. “Get dressed. We’re going to the activity center.”

Makoto blinks blearily at him.

“I still need to shower… and… I need to study for the anatomy quiz… and I need to… mmm,” Makoto whines. He rubs the sleepiness out of his eyes again and stumbles to the side as Sousuke strides into his room. He flops down on Makoto’s bed.

“I can wait,” he says. “I want you to come to the pool with me.”

Makoto closes his door and purses his lips at him, a little grumpy that he had been woken up at seven in the morning when he doesn’t have class until one.

“And I’m _hungry_ ,” Makoto grumbles. Sousuke clicks his tongue at him.

“You’re a pain in the ass,” he says. Makoto huffs.

“ _You_ woke me up at seven!”

Sousuke shrugs and Makoto takes a deep breath. Okay, so he isn’t a cheerful sunburst of light and love and hope in the morning. He’s a kind young man, but in order to achieve that he needs proper rest. And he needs to wake up on his own terms, not because someone wants to go swimming. This all reminds him of the days Haru would give him rude wake-up calls before he learned that Makoto has a _big problem_ with people waking him up too early.

“Do you just want me to leave?” Sousuke suggests. Makoto sighs and shakes his head.

“No, but… just give me a little bit to wake up,” Makoto says. He goes to the bed and sits down beside Sousuke, propping his elbows on his knees and putting his face in his hands. Resting his eyes, he dozes a little like that, his body swaying back and forth.

“Not a morning person?”

The vibration of Sousuke’s low voice travels across the bed and Makoto can feel it on the backs of his thighs. With a little shiver, Makoto shakes his head.

“Not at all,” he laughs. Clearing his throat, he uncovers his face and looks over at Sousuke. Sousuke just looks back at him, hands in the pockets of his hoodie. He’s got a little toothpaste on the corner of his lip, which makes Makoto giggle quietly.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Makoto says, smiling. He runs a hand through his hair and is momentarily self-conscious of how messy it is. It has accumulated a little bit of natural oil since the last time he took a shower, so it sticks up in weird angles when he combs his fingers through it. “I should shower.”

“Whatever you need to do, man. I’ll wait here,” Sousuke says with an indifferent shrug. He slumps in Makoto’s bed, leaning the upper portion of his back on the wall and pulling out his phone. He’s so strange, waltzing into another man’s dorm uninvited. Makoto doesn’t even remember telling him his room number, so he’s somewhat wary about that. Does Sousuke even care? He doesn’t seem like someone who would particularly care about what others think about him. It’s still weird to just _know_ someone’s room number.

“Um, I wanted to ask,” Makoto says slowly. He fidgets a little and takes interest in a bug bite on his left arm. “How’d you know where I live?”

“Last week you were talking to Sato in class and she asked what hall you live in. You told her and she said ‘oh, I lived in that building my first year, what room are you living in?’,” Sousuke explains. He doesn’t look up from his phone, unaware of the blush blooming across Makoto’s face.

“You were listening?” he asks. He feels a little breathless and rattles his brain for memories. If Sousuke had been listening in on conversations he’d been having, there’s a chance he heard something Makoto doesn’t want him to know. Did he talk about anything embarrassing? Makoto’s pretty sure he told a story about one time when he got lost on the subways and needed a security guard to escort him to the right terminal and—

“Not actively. I mostly just tuned you guys out,” Sousuke grunts. He looks up from his phone and shrugs. Makoto sighs with relief. Sousuke smirks. “That story you told about getting lost on the subway was pretty cute, though.”

Makoto lets out a whine and slaps his hands over his face as Sousuke just laughs at him. Once he composes himself, Makoto grabs his shower things and heads to the showers. Luckily for him, only one other person is in the men’s shower right now, given that it’s so early in the morning. By the time Makoto’s bare and under the spray of the shower, the other guy is gone, leaving Makoto to himself to ponder what exactly just happened.

Sousuke had been still listening to him during the week that he had barely spoken a word to him. The thought of that starts a slow burn from the center of Makoto’s chest that spreads outwards until his fingers and toes feel tingly. It’s not nearly as good as actually talking to him, interacting with him, and laughing with him, but it’s something. It’s _acknowledgment_. Makoto is quickly beginning to crave it from that broody young man. Nibbling his lip, Makoto smiles to himself as he suds up his hair.

Sousuke is rough around the edges, but Makoto supposes his quietness is just part of being an observant individual. Little things, from Makoto straining his back to pull Haru out of the pool all the time to his dorm room number, never go unnoticed by him. The sharpness of his eyes aren’t just for show, it seems. When he looks, he _looks_. When he hears, he _hears_. However, he seems to not be very skilled in picking up on certain… social cues.

Considering the fact Makoto is almost always blushing or fluttering his eyelashes or fidgeting or downright _squirming_ around him, Sousuke probably should’ve picked up on his attraction. Makoto always thought his sexual orientation was pretty obvious. With his soft tone of voice, aversion to violence and scary things, and overall appreciation for cute things like puppies and kitties and women’s yukatas, certain people might _assume_ he’s gay. Iwatobi is a small town. Small towns mean news spreads fast. Small towns mean not as much open-mindedness as the city. In elementary school and middle school he kept these things strictly to himself and his close circle of friends, which consisted of just him and Haru. Needless to say, he made sure to wait until he was big and bulky and taller than almost any boy in Iwatobi High before he did things like snuggle cats in public and talk openly about the things he liked.

Makoto turns off the shower and shakes his hair out, sending up sprays of lukewarm water. Grabbing his towel, he dries off and wraps the towel around his hips. With his shower caddy in hand, Makoto makes his way to the sinks and takes out his hair gel. He squirts a small amount into his palm, rubs his hands together, then runs his fingers through his hair. When he’s done, he pulls out his hairdryer and plugs it into a nearby outlet.

So Sousuke is good at picking up on things going on directly around him, but doesn’t recognize signs of attraction. That’s kind of cute. It makes Makoto smile as he dries his hair. With all the time he’s spent with Haru, he’s so adept at reading tiny changes in facial expressions that it’s almost as if his thoughts are wired up directly to other peoples’ emotions. Sousuke can lie well, but even a glance downwards at the right time gives him away. Miho suddenly pops up in Makoto’s head as the phrase _‘a picture is worth a thousand words’_ crosses his mind. Smiling at the fond memory, Makoto shuts off his hairdryer and runs his hand through his hair one more time. It falls into its usual soft, tousled style. Makoto sighs. He tried doing something different with his hair when he graduated high school, but there isn’t much he can do with hair that is naturally silky.

Wanting to avoid being in the open communal shower any longer, Makoto quickly brushes his teeth and tosses his things into his caddy before leaving the showers. He keeps a firm hand on his towel as he makes a dash to his room. Fortunately, he doesn’t pass anyone on the way and is able to unlock his door and get inside before anyone sees him.

The room is silent when he gets in. Makoto looks to the bed, where Sousuke is sitting cross-legged on his bed, slightly hunched over and leaning up against the wall. Due to his position, he’s snoring slightly as he sleeps. His phone is still in his hand, his thumb halfway through a scroll on the touch-screen. It’s about to fall out of his hand and into his lap. Makoto watches him for a few brief moments before a smile spreads across his face. He’s as quiet as possible while he grabs some clothes out of the dresser and sets them on top.

He pulls on a pair of light green boxer-briefs, a newer pair that he got in a care package that his parents gave him before he left for university. They feel good on his skin, and they’re snug in all the right places. Makoto was never one for boxers. They’re too loose, especially considering… well, Makoto’s a big boy and his muscular thighs tend to chafe a little bit. It’s not rocket science.

Makoto reaches in and adjusts himself, then smoothes his hand along the waistband to straighten it. He hangs his towel over the back of his desk chair and grabs his jeans. They’ve become a little loose since he came to university, which bothers him.

“Hmm,” Makoto hums, looking down at his abdomen. Less than a year ago, he had a nice six-pack going for him, but now it has softened up a little. Well, it’s still _there_ , but less defined. It’s discouraging.

“You stressed ‘bout what the girls are gonna think of you?”

Makoto jumps when Sousuke suddenly speaks, whirling around to look at his face. His head’s lifted now, and he’s looking up at Makoto with an uninterested expression.

“You’re not hideous. You’ve got a nice face. That Sato girl seems interested in you, why don’t you go for her?” Sousuke asks. He returns his attention to his phone. Meanwhile, Makoto feels a surge of panic wash over him. Part of it is caused by the fact that he’ll have to answer in a way that _doesn’t_ make him look like a raging homosexual. Sweating, Makoto grimaces and turns back to his clothes. He pulls on a black undershirt and a white button-up over it.

“Um… I don’t know…” he laughs nervously. “She’s not really my type…”

“What about her friend? Aiko was her name, right? You like muscular chicks?”

“Not… not particularly,” Makoto stammers. He finishes buttoning his shirt, realizes he buttoned it crookedly, and coughs as he unbuttons it again. Sousuke lets out a noncommittal grunt.

“Okay. How about… Kana…?”

“Hana,” Makoto corrects. “And I’m not interested in her, either.”

He misses a button again. Desperate to stop this conversation as soon as possible, Makoto clears his throat loudly and turns away from Sousuke completely. He focuses on his trembling fingers as he presses the buttons through each hole.

“Really? I was sure she’d be your type. She’s cute. You don’t like curvy girls?”

“I-I-I…” Makoto splutters. He’s so bad at lying. _He’s so, so bad at lying._ “It’s n-not that, I-I… don’t have time.”

“You don’t have _time_ for _girls_.”

It’s not a question as much as it’s an incredulous statement. Makoto’s ears are on fire as he finally buttons his shirt correctly and turns around. Sousuke’s right there, right behind him, and Makoto jumps so hard he stumbles and bumps into the wall behind him. Hand flying to his chest, he gasps for air. He feels dizzy. Sousuke just looks unimpressed.

“God. Rin was right, you’re jumpy as hell. Well, whatever. I can’t really talk, since I haven’t really been looking at girls, either.”

Makoto’s heart skips a beat, but Sousuke waves his hand dismissively.

“Sato’s cute, though. I like her energy, so I guess she’s my type,” he says. He grabs his bookbag by the door and slings it over his shoulder. “You ready?”

Thinking he might actually faint, Makoto shakily goes to his desk, packs his backpack, and heads out the door behind Sousuke.

\---

Makoto finds out that ‘going to the pool’ means _water aerobics_. He also finds out that the water aerobics class is made up mostly of average-sized girls and the elderly. There isn’t a single other young man in the class. In fact, the only other males are two grey-haired men who keep flirting with the younger university girls.

As they do warm up exercises in the pool, Sousuke insists that they stay in the way back to avoid other people staring at him and his shoulder. Makoto stands beside him, executing the exercises without a problem. Sousuke’s having some trouble with any arm exercises that require him to lift his right arm above his head. However, that shoulder is looking a little less fiery red. Makoto smiles and doesn’t say anything. Sousuke’s face says everything. He may be good at suppressing his emotion, but frustration and embarrassment are quick to bloom across his features.

The aerobics class is so low-key that they don’t even get their hair wet. Halfway through an exercise, Sousuke lets out a grunt and abruptly lets his hands fall to the surface of the water. It sends up a splash.

“Sousuke?”

“I’m done,” he says. He turns and wades towards the ladder while Makoto nods his head to the instructor.

“Thank you very much!” he says, then hurries to catch up to Sousuke, who is already halfway to the locker rooms.

“Um…” Makoto begins. He doesn’t know what to say. In the locker room, Sousuke messes up while trying to unlock his locker and curses loudly. His hand falls to his side, and Makoto can see that the fingers of his right hand are quivering. Concerned, Makoto steps forward. “What’s the combination?”

Sousuke doesn’t say anything for a long time. Instead, he brushes Makoto aside and attempts a second time, managing to unlock it this time.

“I’m… worried,” Makoto says quietly. Sousuke pulls his things out and slams his locker shut harder than is necessary.

“Yeah? Join the club. Rin’s president and Dad’s the founder, you’d fit in just fine,” Sousuke spits. Makoto wrings his hands. His dad? Makoto wonders if there are things going on in Sousuke’s family.

“Listen, Sousuke--”

“What the hell do you think you could say that I haven’t heard before?” Sousuke interrupts. He turns his steely gaze to Makoto, lips pulled down into a frown and his eyes narrowed. “’Oh, you should just rest up more’, ‘oh, you should use this, that, or this, it’ll make you feel better’, ‘oh, just take some ibuprofen’, right?”

“I wasn’t going to say anything like that,” Makoto whispers. He looks down. He doesn’t like confrontation at all, but Sousuke is so quick to jump to conclusions when he speaks. It reminds Makoto of just how much they don’t know each other. In front of him, Sousuke takes a shivering breath.

“…Fine. What were you _going_ to say?” Sousuke asks. His voice is a little softer. Makoto looks up and Sousuke isn’t looking at him. He’s just staring down at his clothes balled up in his hand. He fiddles with a tag on his t-shirt. “Well?”

“If it makes you feel less embarrassed and alone, I want to keep coming to aerobics with you. I was going to say that your shoulder is looking a little better, but… when your muscles are so tense…” Makoto trails off. His eyes wander to Sousuke’s clenched fist. He’s clenching so hard his knuckles are white. Makoto can see how tight his arm muscles are from that single clenched fist. That tension runs all the way up his arm and to his shoulder, making the shoulder blade stick out a little. “Our anatomy professor said that… people who are sober in car accidents die more often than drunk people, because they tense up their muscles and it makes the impact even worse.”

Makoto watches as Sousuke’s hand slowly relaxes.

“I think the same can be applied here. I mean, not the dying part but… you know. Aerobics would probably be more effective for you if you’d relax yourself more,” Makoto says. He looks up at Sousuke’s eyes and holds his gaze. “Truly, I do. And if it makes you feel more relaxed, I’ll come to classes with you. Even if I have to wake up at such an _ungodly_ hour…”

He laughs and scratches his cheek. Sousuke doesn’t say anything, breaking their locked eyes and looking down. There’s a tiny blush under his eyes, and his lips are pulled together in a tight line. Worried, Makoto fidgets.

“B-But, if you don’t _want_ me here, I mean--”

“I do. I do want you here,” Sousuke admits quickly. “Shit. I’m all worked up and you make me feel like a snotty little kid.”

Sousuke runs his left hand through his hair, mussing it up and making it stick up everywhere.

“Look, I’m abrasive as hell. I can tell you’re not like Rin. At all. And I know it… freaks you out when I yell. If you feel like you can’t be friends with me, I won’t be offended by it. But I’m going to get pissed off about my shoulder, aerobics, my classes. I’m probably gonna get pissed about you. You know, because you’re so… damned _nice_ all the time, it drives me up the _fucking_ wall,” Sousuke says. Makoto just smiles and Sousuke responds with a click of his tongue and an eye roll. “Yeah. Exactly like that. But if you’re going to be my friend, if you’re going to come to these classes with me from now on, don’t expect me to be rainbows and sunshine. Your little… pep talks or _whatever_ are appreciated, but they’re not an antidote for a busted-up shoulder. Get it?”

“Yes,” Makoto says cheerfully. “But I also think you’re a nice guy, when you get to know someone.”

He doesn’t say the rest of what he wanted to say; _whenever you smiled last year I could see it from a mile away._

“ _Honestly_ ,” Sousuke sighs in exasperation. “I want to smack that grin right off your face.”

\---

Since his English class is cancelled today, Makoto gets to class about fifteen minutes early with Sousuke, who is back to looking grouchy. He has a little bit of a scowl on his face, having had complained about his shoulder brace being itchy all the way to class. Sato is already there, her nose buried in her book. When she looks up, she beams at Sousuke and Makoto.

“Taah-chee-baah-naah-kuun!”

Makoto grins at Sato as she waves at him and draws out his name as long as possible. Flopping down in his chair, he rolls up to Sato’s row and sets his arm there as usual.

“Hey, Sato-san. Ready for the quiz today?”

“What do you think I’m cramming for?” Sato says, gesturing to her open notebook. “Are _you_ ready?”

“Yes. I went over all my notes. I even made flashcards,” Makoto says.

“Oh! Can I see them?”

“Sure,” Makoto says, turning in his seat to grab the pile of flashcards out of his backpack. He hands them to Sato, who cheerfully flips through them.

“Thanks, Tachibana-kun. I regret not making my own. Before exams, could we study together?”

“Are you just saying that because I have nice flashcards?” Makoto asks. Sato laughs out loud.

“Quiet, you. It’s because you’re awesome. And also because your handwriting is super nice. These are the neatest flashcards I’ve ever seen. I want to frame them.”

“You don’t have to go that far…” Makoto chuckles. He leans his head on his palm and watches Sato cram. She blazes through each card like her life depends on it, and Makoto wonders if she’s effectively studying at all. While she does that, Makoto looks over at Sousuke. He’s plugged into his MP3 player with his eyes closed, tuned out to everything around him. Sato follows his gaze.

“Is Yamazaki-kun okay? He always looks so grumpy,” Sato whispers. Makoto nods once he knows Sousuke can’t hear them.

“He’s always like that,” he whispers back. He smiles a little and glances back at him. “But it’s okay. He’s actually very kind.”

“…I see,” Sato says. Makoto looks back at her as she very slowly puts the flashcards down and gestures for Makoto to come closer. “Tachibana-kun, I have one more question for you.”

“Yes? What is it?” Makoto asks. Sato gestures again and Makoto leans even closer. Sato brings her cupped hand to Makoto’s ear and whispers into it.

“How long has Yamazaki-kun been your boyfriend?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friend [Diana](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	8. Chapter 8

“Wait wait wait wait, so he _isn’t_ your boyf--” Sato begins loudly. Before she can finish, Makoto cuts her off by surging forward and covering her mouth with his hands. He’s blushing so hard he thinks he might die, embarrassment swelling inside of him until he can actually feel his eyes swim with tears. Sato grabs his wrist and pulls his hand away, lips downturned. “Tachibana-kun?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Makoto says. His voice is wavering. “And… and… please don’t repeat what you just said. Ever. I’m not…”

“Oh,” Sato says. “I see. You’re not out of the closet yet?”

Makoto gives her a hopeless look. She looks unfazed but he feels like his bones are going to shatter in his body with how tense he is. He looks over at Sousuke, seeing that he hasn’t moved from his position and might even be sleeping now. Refocusing his eyes on Sato, he gives her a pleading look.

“Please, Sato-san. I… only a few people know that I’m… wait, how did you know?” he asks. There’s a certain desperate lilt to his voice that makes Sato smile sympathetically. She gently pats his hand as he rests it on her table.

“Well, whenever Yamazaki-kun isn’t here, you’re looking over at his seat. Whenever he’s here, you look at him like you’re looking into the sun for the first time. Ah, it’s so romantic,” Sato gushes, smiling wistfully. “Hana-chan’s boyfriend looks at her the same way you look at Yamazaki-kun, so I suppose I just assumed. I mean, you could be bisexual, but… I’ve never, ever seen you look at a girl that way!”

“Oh…” Makoto trails off. Sato rests her chin in her palms.

“Not like you’re looking for anyone’s approval, but if it means anything to you, this doesn’t change how I feel about you at all. You’re still my big, strong first-year,” Sato says. She smiles brightly and Makoto can’t help but to smile back. Then, Sato’s face turns serious and she leans forward. “So… if Yamazaki-kun isn’t your boyfriend… then you have a crush on him, right?”

The question makes Makoto stop and think for a long while. A crush on him? Well, he doesn’t know if he’d go that far. That is, unless ‘crush’ means ‘hinderingly attracted to’. Wait, that’s exactly what that means.

“I don’t know,” Makoto admits, and he’s being honest. Running a hand through his hair, he looks down and ponders. “But he’s…”

“He’s your type?” Sato suggests. Makoto laughs a little nervously and shrugs helplessly.

“I don’t know! I don’t think I’ve ever had a type. I mean… I was attracted to someone on my old swim team for a while. He was… kinda serious but then he turned out to be more silly than serious, and he was very physically fit. He used to be on the track team so he had really nice arms…”

“So Tachibana-kun likes the strong and serious type?” Sato says, her smile turning sly as she leans in closer to Makoto. “Sounds like a direct match-up to Yamazaki-kun.”

Makoto has never thought about it that way. He doesn’t really subscribe to ‘types’, and has always believed that he’ll just be attracted to anyone who is just generally attractive. But now that he thinks about it, any ‘crushes’ he has had, no matter how fleeting, have all been towards men with strong bodies and a serious attitude. Even Haru fits the description. Well, to a point. Since Makoto knows him so well, he knows Haru’s probably the least serious person on the planet.

“I guess you could say that,” he laughs softly. He rubs his neck, his smiling becoming bashful. “So maybe it’s true. Maybe it is a crush.”

“Aww!” Sato croons, clapping her hands together and bouncing in her seat. “Tachibana-kun, you’re adorable. But what do you think Yamazaki-kun feels about you?”

Makoto’s smile fades and he looks down. Reaching out, he grabs one of his flashcards and flips it over and over in his hands.

“Um. Nothing, probably. I definitely don’t think he’s attracted to men,” Makoto sighs. “He talks about girls a lot, so…”

“You don’t know that for sure, right? You mentioned that you haven’t known him for that long, and that you’ve only heard about him from your other friends, right? Maybe you should call one of those friends and ask them about what type he’s interested in.”

“Well, the thing about that is…” Makoto lets out another reflexive giggle and fidgets. However, he doesn’t have time to finish. The professor starts class by starting to hand out quizzes. Waving apologetically to Sato, Makoto turns back to face his desk. Meanwhile, Sousuke is slumped over completely in his chair, his hood up and his hands in his pockets. He’s fast asleep. Makoto wonders just how much this man sleeps. Not wanting the professor to see him like this, Makoto reaches over and gently shakes his elbow.

Sousuke jumps awake, looking around wildly. The first thing he sets his tired, angry eyes on is Makoto. The moment their gazes meet, his eyes become softer and he doesn’t protest as he sits up in his chair and gets ready for the quiz. Makoto watches as Sousuke packs his MP3 away and takes out a pencil.

Once the quizzes are all passed out, the class flips their papers over to see the questions. There’s twenty questions; fifteen multiple choice and five short answer. Makoto looks over his quiz and immediately is relieved. This won’t be too hard for him. He circles his answers without much second-guessing. The short answer questions are a little tougher, but not impossible.

_20\. Explain "positive" and "negative" feedback mechanisms in regulating homeostasis in the body. Then, describe two examples of each mechanism that is used in the body to regulate homeostasis._

Makoto taps his pencil eraser on his lips as he ponders the final question. He knows this one, it just needs some organizing to answer correctly. When he’s got it, he writes down his answer and finishes his quiz. He’s one of the first few students to flip his quiz over. Feeling confident that he has the subject content down, he leans back in his desk chair and waits for the rest of the class to finish. He fiddles with his pencil while he waits, and happens to glance over at Sousuke.

Sousuke’s just staring blankly at his quiz. The multiple choice questions are filled out (with quite a few eraser smudges) but the short answers have barely been touched. Any answers he has written for the short answer questions are short and vague, riddled with even more eraser smudges. Meanwhile, Sousuke has his fingers knotted in his hair as he leans his head up on his hand. Underneath the desk, he’s bouncing his leg like mad.

“Five minutes,” the professor says. Sousuke’s leg jiggling gets faster and he barely has enough time to scribble down his final thoughts before the professor calls for pencils down. Concerned, Makoto frowns at Sousuke, who is looking pale. He had a feeling this is how the quiz would play out for Sousuke.

The professor has them trade papers with a neighbor to grade them. Makoto is quick to trade his paper with Sousuke’s, wanting to look at the damage himself. When he gets the quiz, he immediately knows that most of the answers are wrong. Almost all of them are different from his own. The professor begins calling out answers and Makoto gnaws his lip as he corrects answer after answer.

He can see Sousuke out of his left peripheral. He keeps looking over at his quiz. They’re on the last multiple choice question and he has only gotten six right. As they get into short answers, Makoto tries desperately to link Sousuke’s answers with the official answers given by the professor.

“Can anyone tell me the definition of homeostasis?” the professor calls out. Makoto raises his hand and reads directly off of Sousuke’s paper.

“When two things are the same?” Makoto says. The answer ends in a question as he grimaces. The class is silent as the professor gives him a look.

“… No, not quite. Anyone else?”

“When an organism or cell regulates its internal conditions to adapt to the external environment.”

“Correct. And when does homeostasis occur in humans?”

Makoto’s not listening anymore, too busy staring hard at Sousuke’s quiz. This isn’t that big of a deal. It’s only twenty points, and there will be more quizzes throughout the semester that Sousuke can use to catch up. But Makoto’s more worried about Sousuke, who had been so sure that he knew everything that he needed to know when he obviously doesn’t.

He looks over at Sousuke, hoping he can convey just how sorry he is through one look. Sousuke doesn’t look at him, too busy leaning back in his chair with his hands stuffed in his pockets. He looks indifferent on a surface level, but Makoto can see the vein in his neck popping out.

They finish grading papers. Sousuke scores nine out of twenty. Makoto scores eighteen out of twenty. Makoto quickly draws a smiley face and the words ‘good try!’ by his score. When he hands it back to Sousuke, he just looks disgusted and doesn’t say a word. The quizzes are passed in and class is dismissed early since they don’t have enough time to start a new unit just yet.

“Uggggh, Tachibana-kun, your flashcards were a life-saver,” Sato says from behind. Makoto turns and watches as she stacks his flashcards neatly and hands them back to him. “I mean, I still got a fifteen out of twenty, but I wouldn’t have gotten even that had I not looked at your cards.”

Makoto takes his handmade flashcards and smiles.

“I’m glad they could help you, Sato-san,” Makoto says. As he turns to put the flashcards away in his backpack, he catches Sousuke’s eyes.

“Makoto, you made flashcards?” he asks. Makoto nods and Sousuke scoffs, rolling his eyes as he looks away. Makoto feels a rush of embarrassment, followed by defensiveness. He huffs and puts his flashcards in his backpack.

“Well it certainly helped me score higher on my quiz, unlike you.”

It slips out of his mouth before he can catch it. He stares at his backpack for a second.

“W-Wait…! I’m sorry, that was so rude. I didn’t mean that!” Makoto apologizes immediately. The stress of the quiz, waking up early, and Sato discovering his sexual orientation has him on edge. Saying something so mean-spirited isn’t like him at all, and it makes him feel a little panicked.

Sousuke, however, just lets out a tired laugh.

“Really? Even when you’re telling the truth you’re too nice. If you’re not careful with that Mr. Brightside attitude, it’ll come back to bite your ass,” Sousuke says. He shakes his head and stands, bookbag hooked on his shoulder. Makoto follows suit and follows Sousuke out of the lecture hall and into the hallway. “But anyway, Makoto, I was thinking that… maybe I need some help understanding the material after all.”

Makoto’s lips part as Sousuke looks out a nearby window and scratches his jaw.

“I mean it’s pretty obvious I was just running my mouth when I said I knew the material. You were right, I don’t know the technical stuff at all. So… do you think that maybe…?” Sousuke trails off. He doesn’t finish and instead makes an annoyed face. So he’s embarrassed? The thought makes Makoto smile. “Man, don’t smile at me like that. What I’m trying to say is, uhh… think you could help me study a bit? I don’t want to fall so far behind that I can’t catch up, you know?”

He finally looks at Makoto. He’s got a bit of a blush on his cheeks, which speaks volumes about how he’s feeling at this moment. The fact that he can show this side to Makoto after only a few weeks of knowing each other makes Makoto desperate for more. He wants to see how Sousuke reacts to scary movies. Tragic Shakespearean plays. He wants to hear Sousuke’s voice after something particularly strange happens to him. He wants to see Sousuke on the verge of breathless agony from laughing so hard. He wants to know if Sousuke’s kisses are rough and fast or gentle and slow, and he wants to see the face he makes when he pulls away. More.

 _More_.

“Yeah,” Makoto says. His voice is surprisingly even despite the thoughts racing through his head. He smiles and tilts his head to the side. “I would love to help you study.”

Sousuke relaxes and that rare, true smile comes to his face, offering Makoto a peek into his gentler side. A side that isn’t quite so torn up by the hazards life keeps shoving into his wayward path, a side that is purely _Sousuke_ without the influence of constant anger. His smile could probably cure cancer. All Makoto ever hears about is his own smile, but there’s no way he can hold a light to Sousuke’s.

“Awesome. Alright, then… aerobics tomorrow?” Sousuke asks. Makoto nods. “Cool. I’ll bring coffee. See ya.”

Sousuke gives him a short wave and Makoto waves back. He watches Sousuke leave and disappear into the stairwell that leads out of the science building. A sigh escapes him and he turns around to go the opposite direction.

Sato is right there, bottom lip bulled between her teeth and her fists balled as she does a bouncy dance.

“Tachibana-kun, you look like you’re in _looove!_ ” she sings. Makoto shushes her and looks around, but he’s smiling anyway.

“Sato-san, please. I’m not in love with him,” he denies. Sato sticks her tongue out at him, then loops her arm in his.

“C’mon, let’s hang out! You don’t have any plans, right?”

He’s about to tell her that he has plans with Haru, but he remembers that he has his swimming tournament on Wednesday and is currently staying in a hotel up in Hokkaido. He had been sad to see Haru go last Saturday morning, and has been relatively lonely. The last thing Haru said to him was ‘ _here safely’_ , and it was in the form of a text. Perhaps spending some time with his college friends would be a good idea to stave off the loneliness.

“No, I don’t. But can we maybe not go downtown?” Makoto asks sheepishly. “It’s a little too intense for me.”

“Hehe,” Sato giggles, releasing Makoto’s arm. “Of course. I was thinking we could go to that little coffee place that’s just outside campus? It’s a pretty short walk and the only crowd in there is university students.”

“Okay,” Makoto agrees, and he follows Sato down the hall and to the elevators. Once they’re outside the science building and on their way to the coffee place, Sato settles into a leisurely walking pace and strolls beside Makoto. She hums a little, which makes Makoto smile and look over at her fondly. He feels closer to her, especially after today. She isn’t freaked out by his sexual orientation, but she also isn’t overly excited about it, which makes Makoto feel very comfortable.

“There is a LGBTQ group on campus, if you’re interested,” Sato says. Makoto blinks.

“A whole group?” he asks. Sato nods.

“Yeah. They meet on Wednesdays in the University Center,” she says. Makoto smiles to himself. They never had anything like that at Iwatobi High, or even in Iwatobi in general. Bit by bit, Makoto can feel his world expanding.

“You know, I’m happy there’s a group for them, but I’m not sure I’m ready to be… ‘out’ to so many people, you know? It’s something that I have always kept close to myself. Even now, only my closest friends and my parents know about it. Not even all of them know, actually, since one of my best friends is in Australia right now. You’re the only other person who has figured it out, Sato-san.”

“What can I say? I’m a clever girl,” Sato teases. She shrugs. “Well, the LGBTQ group is open to anyone to join, and you can feel confident there knowing you’re not alone. Just keep it in mind, if you ever doubt yourself. They have the resources to help you out.”

“Thank you,” Makoto says, and he means it. They’re only quiet for a few more minutes before Sato speaks up again.

“You know, a really good way to show your feelings for someone is to touch them casually,” Sato suggests. Makoto glances at her, head tilted in curiosity.

“Touch them?”

“Yeah. Like, not awkward poking or anything. But like this,” Sato says, reaching out and trailing her fingertips up from Makoto’s elbow to his upper arm. Makoto shivers from the feather-light touch and reaches over to scratch at it. “See?”

“It’s more tickly than anything,” Makoto says, unconvinced. Sato laughs.

“Oh, but that’s just because it’s me. Imagine if it was Yamazaki-kun.”

Makoto thinks and quickly gets chills up his spine at the thought of his warm fingers gliding over the sensitive spots on his upper arm. He can already imagine the goose bumps that would pop up all over his skin. Without realizing it, his face has gone red. Sato just laughs.

“See, I told you! If it’s just anyone, touches like that will be ticklish or itchy. But if Yamazaki-kun feels anything for you, he might get goose bumps like you did. Good plan, huh? The only problem is finding an _excuse_ to touch someone like that.”

“It all sounds a little sneaky,” Makoto laughs. Sato shrugs.

“Look, Tachibana-kun. When you have a crush on someone, you can’t just sit back and let things happen! You have to charge forth! Grab his hand and never let go!” Sato cheers, lifting her fist in the air. “Take it from your senpai. You’ll regret it more later on if you don’t take these chances now. Don’t let opportunity slip through your fingers. If you like someone, swallow your fear. It’s easier said than done, I know, but you’ll be much happier in the long run if you tried and failed rather than if you don’t try and wind up wondering for the rest of your life.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Makoto says. Sato looks up at him and grins before smacking him hard on the back. Makoto stumbles a little but the smile doesn’t leave his face.

“I’m rooting for you, Tachibana-kun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friend [Diana](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as many of you know, the Free! OVA is coming out sometime in March next year. I'm not sure of the exact date, but I've heard 'March 14'? Correct me if I'm wrong. Anyway, the OVA is supposed to feature characters interacting that we have never seen interact before. Many SouMako fans are speculating that Sousuke and Makoto will be interacting, which is something that I also have my fingers crossed for.
> 
> However, there's a slight worry of mine that Sousuke's canon plans for the future will be revealed in this OVA. In fact, I am almost 100% certain that this will be part of the OVA, no matter how small. That being said, obviously if his plans are going to be different than the plans he presents in the FEFSKY universe, I'm going to be pretty sad. So I'm going to say it here and now: nothing the OVA makes canon will affect my fanfiction unless it lines up with FEFSKY's story. That makes things a lot simpler for everyone. Also, I don't know if FEFSKY will still be ongoing in March 2015??? Considering I'm an inhumanly fast writer (I've been doing this shit for a long time, folks), there's a high chance FEFSKY will be finished before then. But hey, there's still a lot of content I have planned that I have yet to cover as well, so. Maybe it will stretch out that long! Who even knows.

The Thursday following Haru’s swimming competition, Haru comes home with a brand new third place bronze medal resting proudly on his chest. A video group on Skype is held for Haru to show off his medal, and even Rin is included in the festivities. They sing and cheer and Rin chugs three beers on camera and gets stupid drunk. In his drunkenness, he laments about missing all of them and then scolds Rei for one reason or another. He says something about ‘… _getting too close to my sister_...’, burps, then gets up to pee. Gou seems unfazed but Rei’s red in the face for the rest of the night.

The world turns. April slowly turns into May and the high school swimming prefecturals are fast approaching. Haru gets back to his regular training schedule and gets ready for his next tournament in late June, while Makoto continues to work hard in his studies. Things don’t really progress between him and Sousuke. If anything, they’re becoming more comfortable with each other. Sousuke comes at seven in the morning on the weekdays with a cup of coffee for the both of them, and together they do water aerobics.

On Monday, Wednesday, and Friday nights, Makoto and Sousuke work out together in the activity center. Slowly but surely, Makoto is working back up to the muscle power he had before coming to Tokyo. His abs tighten up and he feels good standing next to someone as big as Sousuke, who stays just as cut as ever. His shoulder is still in pain, but with Makoto’s help, the inflammation has gone down. He serves as an equalizer to Sousuke’s anger. He soothes the tension plaguing him. It doesn’t ever disappear, but Sousuke gets better at taking deep breaths and calming down.

Studies are going well; Tuesdays and Thursdays after class are the designated days they use to study. Makoto thought it’d be awkward, but it really isn’t. Sousuke gets bored easily and Makoto is forced to put a lot of effort into keeping his attention on his studies. He doesn’t have time (nor the patience) to try and use some of the strategies Sato taught him to convey his attraction to Sousuke. However, that doesn’t stop Makoto from losing focus from time to time when Sousuke nibbles his eraser a certain way, or when he grunts in frustration at a wrong answer. Makoto used to be kind of discreet about it, but lately Sousuke has been noticing.

‘What’re you lookin’ at?’ he’ll say. Or he’ll say something like ‘do I have something on my face’ or ‘what’s with the stupid look on your face?’. Makoto always laughs, says it’s nothing, and has to force himself to keep his eyes off of Sousuke for the rest of the study session.

Life moves on.

\---

“ _Haru_ , we’re going to be late for the flight!” Makoto wails, trying to tug Haru’s arm as he stands at his stove with nothing but his swimsuit and an apron on. He’s grilling mackerel. Some things never change. It’s currently three-thirty in the afternoon on Thursday, only about a half hour after Makoto’s classes ended. It’s finally the weekend of the high school prefecturals, and they’re heading home to Iwatobi to cheer on their former teammates. It’s a bittersweet feeling to not be swimming with them, but Makoto wouldn’t pass up this opportunity for anything. Besides, he’s looking forward to spending a few nights with his parents. Ran and Ren sounded so excited when Makoto spoke to them on the phone.

Giving up on trying to get Haru to move, Makoto sighs and decides to move all of his things to the front door so they can leave as soon as Haru is done messing around. As he does this, his phone goes off. Makoto reaches into his pocket, pulls it out, and looks at the caller ID. It’s Sousuke.

Despite all the time they spend together (which is a lot--Haru has actually shown some signs of jealousy due to Makoto coming over less frequently after class), Makoto’s heart still does backflips whenever Sousuke calls him.

“Hey,” Makoto says when he picks up. He hears a loud sigh on the other line.

_“Yo. Open your damn door, I’ve been knocking for five minutes. Where are you?”_

“Who are you talking to?” Haru asks from the kitchenette. “Is it Rei? I told him we won’t be there until evening. Tell him to stop being a nuisance.”

Makoto ignores Haru and cups his hand over the phone.

“Ah, I’m so sorry,” Makoto apologizes. “I forgot to mention, this weekend I’m going back home.”

_“Home? Iwatobi?”_

“Yes,” Makoto says. “Um… I hope you didn’t go too far out of your way to go to my dorm.”

“ _Nah. It’s no big deal. Why are you going back? Decided you were too much of a softy for university life?”_

Makoto giggles and taps his finger on his lips. He’s practically nuzzling his phone.

“No-ooo,” he hums. Sousuke lets out a low chuckle on the other line, the sound tinny from the poor phone connection. He must be in the elevator. Makoto doesn’t notice Haru squinting at him suspiciously from the kitchenette. “That’s not it at all. I’m going to see my family and cheer on Iwatobi High at swimming prefecturals.”

_“…Can you repeat that, you broke up a little.”_

“Honestly,” Makoto laughs, but he’s just teasing by pretending to be exasperated. He still doesn’t notice Haru, who is standing behind him now with a disgusted look on his face. “I _said_ , I’m going to see family and watch the high school prefecturals.”

“ _Whaaat? Iwatobi still has enough members to stand on its own two feet?”_ Sousuke drawls.

“Mmhm. I’ve been hearing good things from our _very_ capable captain. Anyway, I’m running a bit late for my flight, so I’ll talk to you later. I’ll be back Sunday night, so we can go over our studies then, okay?”

_“Got it. See ya.”_

“Bye-bye,” Makoto says, voice soft. He hears the _beep_ as Sousuke hangs up and lets out a small, wistful sigh.

“Is that your lover?” Haru suddenly asks. Unaware that he had been directly behind him, Makoto lets out a _very_ effeminate scream and involuntarily flails his arms. He accidentally releases his phone and it nearly lodges itself in the opposite wall.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” Makoto cries. Haru just looks supremely revolted.

“That definitely wasn’t Rei. You sounded like a housewife. It was gross. Who was it? Tell me,” Haru deadpans, backing Makoto up against the wall. He’s so much shorter than Makoto, but Makoto still feels like a cornered mouse. Whimpering, Makoto holds up his hands.

“Haruuu--”

“Is this the person you’ve been spending so much time with recently instead of coming here?”

“U-Um, well,” Makoto stammers. He sniffs the air. “Haru, _the mackerel is burning!_ ”

One wasted fish and a short train ride later, Makoto and Haru just barely make it to the terminal on time to board their 4:25 flight to Iwatobi. The plane ride isn’t too long, just an hour and a half. Haru’s grumpy and hungry since he didn’t get his mackerel fix, so Makoto doesn’t try to engage him in active conversation.

Instead, he thinks about that phone call and how dangerous it was. Haru still doesn’t know that the person he’s spending so much time with is Sousuke. He _wants_ to tell him, but he has a feeling Haru won’t approve. In fact, he _knows_ he won’t approve. How far Haru would go in order to stop any communication between Sousuke and Makoto--he doesn’t know. He doesn’t _want_ to know, so he doesn’t say a word. Makoto knows he shouldn’t be keeping big secrets from Haru, but this is an exception.

They land at an airport outside of Iwatobi and take the train into town. The sun is still bright by the time they arrive, but both of them are weary from sitting down for hours on end. Grabbing their things, Haru and Makoto get off the train and leave the station.

However, they are stopped directly outside the station by a group of young men all sporting the same white, blue-trim jacket. They’re lined up in two rows behind the leader, five to each row. Makoto and Haru freeze in awe.

“Welcome back to Iwatobi!” the group of men calls in unison. It’s the Iwatobi swim team in full uniform, with Rei standing in front of them with an immensely prideful look on his face. He’s coming forward gracefully, hand outstretched, but before he reaches Makoto and Haru, two figures speed past him. Gou and Nagisa are suddenly there, leaping into their arms. Gou throws her arms around Makoto’s neck and Makoto laughs as he spins her around.

“ _Haru-chaaan!_ ” Nagisa shrieks, giving Haru a full-body hug and wrapping his legs around his waist. Haru protests as per usual while Nagisa just laughs. The rest of the team looks on with confused expressions, some of them looking to Rei for answers.

“Nagisa-kun, Gou-san! If you _please!_ ” Rei barks. Gou and Nagisa detach themselves from their former senpais. Both of their eyes are shimmering with tears.

“Sorry, Rei-chan,” Nagisa giggles through his tears.

“Sorry, Rei-kun, but we just missed them so much,” Gou admits. Rei gives her a soft smile in return.

“I know,” he says. He trains his eyes on Makoto and Haru and takes a deep breath. “Makoto-senpai, Haruka-senpai… welcome home.”

Makoto and Haru glance at each other and smile.

“We’re home,” they say in unison, and that’s what breaks Rei. His eyes well up with tears and he rushes forward. Forgetting all formalities, he flings his arms around both of their necks and nearly conks their heads together as he squeezes. Head bowed, he sobs softly between them as Makoto and Haru sandwich him between them. Makoto embraces him tightly. Rei always seemed to be the one who was impacted the most by their departure.

“Come on, now,” Makoto soothes, stroking his hair back. Rei looks up, tears still dripping down his face. “We’ve only been gone a few months! There’s no need to cry.”

Even though Rei’s a third year, and bigger than he was the year before, he still reminds Makoto of a small child. A flash of worry passes through him; what if Rei’s not a strong captain?

“Right,” Rei agrees. He wipes his tears away, readjusts his glasses, and turns bravely to the team. His team. “Everyone, this is the former captain of the Iwatobi swim club, Tachibana Makoto. And this is our former co-captain, Nanase Haruka.”

“Nice to meet you!” the team calls out, mostly in unison. Makoto is impressed by their organization.

“Hey, wait, that’s Nanase-san? Is he the one who was on T.V. for the tournament in Hokkaido a few weeks ago?” one of the new club members asks. He’s a petite guy, probably a first year. Rei grins.

“The very same. Haruka-senpai, do you think you’d be willing to show off your front crawl to everyone before practice tomorrow? Prefecturals start at eight in the morning on Saturday, so tomorrow’s our last full day for practice.”

“…I guess,” Haru says. Makoto laughs at his lackluster response.

“Well,” Rei says. He claps his hands together and the team stands at attention. “Alright, everyone, you’re dismissed. Get plenty of rest tonight and be ready for practice after school tomorrow!”

“Yes, sir!” the team barks before dispersing. They leave Makoto, Haru, Gou, Nagisa, and Rei alone. Rei turns to face his friends again, a big grin on his face.

“You guys must be hungry. Let’s go get something to eat.”

\---

“The team’s looking great. I can’t wait to watch practice tomorrow,” Makoto says while the five of them are heading home from their outing. Above, the stars twinkle in the sky and the moon illuminates the way back home. It’s beautiful. “Are you guys entered in the relay?”

“Oh yes. Nagisa-kun and I are doing breast and butterfly, respectively,” Rei says. He gestures to them and leads all of them down the street towards the stairs up to Haru’s old home and Makoto’s parents’ home. As they begin to climb, he speaks over his shoulder. “Eiji-kun is a first year, he’ll be doing backstroke. He’s not as dynamic as you were, Makoto-senpai, but he’s very strong on the turn and his form is perfect. Then we have Yuma-kun. He’s a second year and swims free style. He’s fast, but not as fast as you, Haruka-senpai.”

“I see,” Haru says. His voice has no inflection whatsoever, but Makoto can easily tell he’s happy about that tidbit of information.

“It sounds like you all have a good chance of making it to regionals again this year!” Makoto says.

“We will definitely win nationals!” Nagisa cheers, bouncing up ahead of them and standing on the first landing of the stone steps. He thrusts his arms up into the air, the breeze ruffling his Iwatobi jacket. “Just watch!”

Makoto laughs behind his hand as Haru huffs a sigh at Nagisa.

“You’ll end up jinxing yourself,” Haru scolds.

“Nagisa-kun, aren’t you the one who always lectures me about jinxing our team?” Rei asks, exasperated. He whaps Nagisa on the top of the head, but Nagisa just giggles and hangs off of Rei’s arm.

“Aww, you’re no fun, Rei-chan!”

“I’m simply focusing on the competition on Saturday! I can’t believe you’re not thinking about it. It’s our last year to make it to nationals, and you’re still messing around.”

Makoto glances over as Gou suddenly tenses beside him. She has her hands firmly around the strap of her purse as she looks down at the ground with her lips pulled into a tight line.

“Gou? Are you okay?” Makoto asks, voice soft. He reaches out without really thinking and places his hand on Gou’s back between her shoulder blades. She jumps at the sudden touch, looks at Makoto, and puts on a strained smile.

“Ah… yes, I’m just fine. But thank you for asking. I’m going to head back early, okay? Please excuse me.”

Gou bows slightly and turns to walk back down the stone staircase. Nagisa and Rei, who have been bickering, suddenly stop as Rei’s attention is broken away from Nagisa. Makoto looks up at him, watching the way his eyes follow after Gou.

“Ah, I think I should go, too. Lots of things to plan, you know!” Rei laughs. It’s so obvious that this isn’t the case that it’s almost painful to hear. Makoto grimaces as Rei disentangles himself from Nagisa and hurries down the stairs to catch up with Gou.

“I wanna go, too!” Nagisa says. However, both Haru and Makoto catch either of his arms and hold him still. “Hey! Mako-chan, Haru-chan, what is it?”

“Um… I think you should leave them be,” Makoto says. “Isn’t that right, Haru?”

“Don’t ask me,” he says, looking away. Makoto sighs and releases Nagisa, who stays put. The three of them watch Rei and Gou as they walk down the staircase together.

“Gou-chan and Rei-chan love each other, don’t they?” Nagisa sighs. Makoto looks at him and Nagisa’s eyes are glimmering with a bittersweet expression. “It’s funny, I feel sort of left behind…”

“…Nagisa, do you have feelings for Gou, too?” Makoto asks. Nagisa shakes his head. He crosses his arms and he suddenly looks his age with such a somber look on his face. Makoto is momentarily shocked at how much he has grown in such a short amount of time.

“That’s not it,” he says.

“Feelings for Rei?” Haru suggests. Makoto frowns but Nagisa shakes his head again.

“Rei-chan? Hehe, no,” he replies, a light smile coming to his face. “No, I mean… it’s been fun this year so far. Really fun.”

He suddenly flops down on the stairs and looks up at the stars. Makoto and Haru sit down on either side of him.

“When I see them, I feel like I’m being left behind. They’re maturing so fast! And I’m really, really happy for both of them. Rei-chan has liked Gou-chan for a very long time, even though they always argue,” Nagisa giggles. He wraps his arms around his knees and rocks back and forth, his strawberry blonde hair waving as he does. “I’ve decided what I want to do.”

“Really?” Makoto asks. Nagisa nods.

“Mhm. I want to be a travel guide,” he says. “I want to see the world, like Rin-chan. Iwatobi is too small for me. But… I’m afraid. Gou-chan and Rei-chan are going so fast. I’m afraid I won’t be as close to them as I was before by the time I graduate. That we’ll grow apart while I’m out of the country. I wish it could last forever.”

Nagisa pouts and lets out a big sigh before his smile bounces back.

“But! That really shouldn’t be weighing down my mind right now,” Nagisa says. Makoto grins.

“No. There’s no way you, Rei, and Gou will separate. You’ve always been close to each other. You also have the whole rest of the year to be together,” Makoto assures Nagisa. He puts a gentle hand on his shoulder and gives it a light squeeze. “Just because they’ve found love doesn’t mean you’re any less important.”

“Honeymoon phase,” Haru mutters to himself. “Are they dating, Nagisa?”

“I don’t think so,” Nagisa giggles softly. “I think they’ve been dancing around it a little. It’s silly watching them talk to each other! Really cute.”

“Nagisa, there comes a time when everyone will grow apart,” Haru suddenly says. Makoto and Nagisa look over at him, but Haru has his arms folded on his knees as he gazes blankly up at the stars. “You will see new things and meet new people. Distance will grow between you and your friends, emotionally and physically. But we will never forget _home_. Your true friends are the ones that you can come back to after months or years of not being around them, and pick up right where you left off.”

He looks over at Makoto and Nagisa. Their cheeks are flushed bright red. Haru immediately scowls.

“What?” he snaps. Nagisa lets out a happy laugh and throws himself at Haru, nearly knocking him down as he embraces him.

“Haru-chan, I love you!” he cries. Haru squirms under him, trying to push him off.

“H-Hey! Get off! Na-gi-saaa!”

Makoto laughs as Nagisa thoroughly embraces Haru, who gets increasingly flustered under all of the love he’s getting.

“Haru-chan, you sounded just like Rei-chan, you’re so cool!”

“I didn’t and I am _not!_ ”

Makoto looks up at the stars, letting Haru and Nagisa wrestle/snuggle. We will never forget home.

_We will never forget home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friend [Diana](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	10. Chapter 10

“Alright everyone, let’s do a quick warm-up and get right down to it. We’re doing speed training today, so I want everyone to be prepared,” Rei says to his team as they stand before him in a semi-circle. “Tomorrow we have the individual events, which are as follows; 100 and 200m for freestyle, butterfly, breaststroke, and backstroke. We also have the 400m and 800m freestyle. Oh, and Naoki-kun is competing in the 200m individual medley relay, correct?

“Yes, sir!” a young man with a physique similar to Makoto’s calls out. Rei grins and nods.

“Make sure to practice all of the strokes today, then.”

“Yes!”

Makoto and Haru watch from the sidelines, sitting in the shade on the benches under the canopy. Nearby, Miss Miho sits in her little lawn chair and watches over the club as they practice.

“Nanase-kun, how is the Tokyo swim team treating you?” she suddenly asks, turning partially towards her former club members. Haru just continues to stare at the pool. Earlier, he had tried to dive in, but Makoto had to physically restrain him, so now he’s grumpy.

“It’s fine,” he says curtly. Miss Miho just laughs.

“Good! And how about you, Tachibana-kun? Are your studies going well?”

“Yes. I recently scored well on a quiz in one of my classes,” Makoto says.

“Excellent! As the theologian Richard Baxter put it, ‘ _study hard, for the well is deep, and our brains are shallow’_ , right?”

Makoto puts a strained smile on his face while Haru looks like his brain just short-circuited.

“Um, right,” Makoto says, not wanting to offend Miss Miho by telling her the quote makes little sense in this context. Luckily, the conversation stops there as there’s a sudden commotion at the pool.

One of the members, an average-looking first-year with a mop of curly brown hair, has his arms draped over the edge of the pool as he coughs and hacks. Makoto and Haru stand, both about to step in and see what’s wrong, but Rei is quicker. Makoto watches as he kneels down at the edge of the pool by the coughing member.

“Captain, I can’t do this,” he wheezes between coughs. Rei nods and waits for him to finish. “No matter how hard I try, I can’t do the breaststroke.”

“You can,” Rei encourages before sliding into the pool beside him. “Give it another try, let me watch.”

Makoto slowly sits back down on the bench and Haru joins him a second later as Rei calmly helps his distressing club member. For a long time, both of them are silent, only listening to Rei’s patient coaching.

“Are you jealous?” Haru finally asks. Makoto shakes his head slowly and looks back at him.

“No, not at all. I’m just shocked to see how well he has embraced his position as captain. He’s… doing so much better than I did. He’s even teaching someone how to swim breaststroke!” Makoto exclaims, gesturing over at Rei. “I couldn’t even coach Rei properly when he wanted to learn backstroke, and backstroke is my _specialty_. I never realized how strong he is as captain of this team. I couldn’t be any more proud of him.”

“I suppose,” Haru says. Makoto sighs through his nose and looks at him. Haru is very obviously tense, jiggling his legs and rubbing his palms along his knees. He keeps fiddling with the buttons of his shirt as if he’s going to take it off, but keeps his butt firmly on the bench.

“You really want to swim?”

Haru swallows so hard that Makoto can hear the gulp. Sighing, Makoto stands up again and cups his hands over his mouth.

“Hey, Rei! Do you think Haru could show everyone his swimming now? He’s getting a little restless over here.”

“I am _not_ ,” Haru denies. Rei just smiles and nods.

“It’s a good time for a short break, anyway. Everyone, take a few minutes to hydrate!”

One by one, the team climbs out of the pool and goes to their respective water bottles. Soon, the pool is empty, and everyone looks to Haru expectantly.

“Didn’t know I would have an audience,” Haru huffs, stripping down to the swimsuit he’s wearing under his clothes. Everyone who doesn’t know about Haru’s odd habits, which is basically the entire team, looks at him like he’s out of his mind.

“You wanted to swim during their practice,” Makoto reminds him. Haru just clicks his tongue at him and goes to the starting block, where he stretches his swim cap over his head and tucks in his hair. Pulling down his goggles, he shakes out his limbs before getting into position.

Gou blows the whistle and Haru dives flawlessly into the water. His underwater phase has gotten longer. He spends nearly fifteen meters underwater, which is over half of the twenty-five meter pool. Now the entire team is interested, murmuring about his underwater phase.

Makoto is momentarily floored, mostly because he hasn’t seen Haru swim seriously since he started training under a professional regime. Even Miss Miho’s mouth is hanging open as she stands from her chair with her umbrella tightly in her grip.

“So cool,” Nagisa coos from nearby. Gou nods emphatically beside him.

“His time is amazing!” she says. “He’s beating our freestyle times by a landslide!”

Haru does eight laps in total, or about 200m, before touching the wall at the starting blocks and surfacing. Peeling off his cap and goggles, he pants and shakes out his hair. Makoto steps forward to offer him his hand and pulls him out of the water. He can splurge on Sousuke’s ‘no lifting out of the pool’ rule every once and a while. At least when he’s not around.

“Amazing as always, Haru-chan,” Makoto teases. Haru rolls his eyes and snatches his hand out of Makoto’s grip.

“No ‘-chan’,” he huffs. Makoto doesn’t have time to respond before the Iwatobi Swim Club members have crowded all around them.

“Amazing!” “Nanase-san, you’re so awesome!” “I want to swim just like you!” comes the chorus of praise. Haru looks a little overwhelmed, fidgeting under the weight of all the first and second years who crowd up in his space.

“Alright, everyone! Let’s get back to practice, shall we?” Rei interrupts, coming forward to grab the shoulders of a few members and forcibly pull them away from Haru. “Haruka-senpai appreciates his personal space, as I’m sure most of you do.”

“Oi, Captain, why do you still call them ‘senpai’ if they’re not your senpais anymore?” one of the cheekier second-years asks loudly. Rei’s lip twitches.

“Yeah! Why so formal?” chimes another.

“There’s no special reason!” Rei barks, voice cracking as he flushes with embarrassment. “It’s what I’m used to!”

“Awww, Rei-chan is still a little kouhai,” Nagisa croons, flouncing away from Rei’s wrath seconds before he’s kicked into the water by another teammate. Laughing, the rest of the club jumps into the pool, yelling and splashing each other. Someone gets on another team member’s shoulders and starts an intense chicken fight. Rei, looking resigned, just puts his hands on his hips and smiles as he watches over his team.

Makoto watches all of this happen with a big smile on his face. Rei has it all under control, after all. The team feels like a family, welded together by the water and a strong sense of kinship. As he thinks about this, he happens to glance over at Gou. Gou, who would normally be very happy upon seeing muscled boys splashing each other in the water, has a strange expression on her face. She stares exclusively at the ground, not even looking up when Rei gets yanked into the pool by a very mischievous Nagisa.

\---

That night, Makoto stays with his parents again while Haru (reluctantly) agrees to spend the night at Nagisa’s house. However, Makoto doesn’t have time to feel lonely. Now that Haru’s gone, Ran and Ren are happy to have Makoto all to themselves. They end up watching a movie while cuddling on the couch, which ends up in a full-blown tickle fight.

Luckily, the rough-housing wears them down until they’re too sleepy to walk. Makoto carries them to bed and tucks them in, then spends some time with his parents. They ask him about university life until well past eleven o’clock. When they finally go to bed, Makoto feels a bit restless. Since it’s nice out, he decides to take a walk up to the top of the hill on which he lives. Whenever he comes here, he’s reminded of the time Nagisa ran away from home and tried to camp out up here. Granted, it _is_ a nice spot. The gazebo provides shelter from the elements, and there’s a fence around the top to prevent people from falling off the steep ocean-facing side of the cliff.

“Beautiful,” Makoto murmurs to himself, closing his eyes as a breeze ruffles his hair and shirt. He breathes in the smell of the ocean and realizes just how much he has missed it. Tokyo is great and all, but nothing beats the natural smells and sights Iwatobi holds. Feeling inspired, Makoto takes his phone out of his pocket and opens up the camera app. He leans up against the fence and holds the phone up and above him. He takes a ‘selfie’ of himself with the ocean and the moonlight behind him. Sato has used the term a few times, using botched English.

It’s a nice picture. His hair looks nice. His face and eyes look nice. Pondering over the picture for a long time, he bites his lip and opens his texting app. He pulls up his text conversation with Sousuke, which is mostly just one to two word phrases bumped back and forth.

Makoto attaches the picture he took to a text and adds the caption ‘ _wish you were here!_ ’. It seems normal to say something like that at this moment. After all, he probably sent three separate texts to Haru while he was in Hokkaido for his swimming tournament saying variants of ‘ _I miss you so much’_ , so something like this is totally normal.

He regrets it as soon as he hits the ‘send’ button.

“Wait, no!” he gasps. Dread filling his gut, he watches the little ‘sending’ bar at the top of the screen.

_Read 11:47PM._

Makoto’s heart pounds in his throat as he stares at the picture. It’s so embarrassing, and now that he knows Sousuke has seen it, he spots at least a hundred flaws in the picture. It’s a little blurry, his nose looks a little crooked, is that a misplaced hair?!

_[You really miss me that much? Lol.]_

When he gets the responding text, Makoto just about dies of embarrassment. Bringing a shaking hand to his face, he covers his eyes and groans. Sousuke must think he’s a clingy idiot. However, before he can descend into self loathing any further, his phone vibrates. Makoto peeks through his fingers.

It’s a relatively dim picture of Sousuke with his head down on a pillow. It looks like homework or a study guide is smooshed under his cheek. Makoto can clearly see that there are eraser smudges all over the sheet of paper. He must be studying in bed.

_[Wish you were here, too.]_

Makoto’s heart promptly breaks. He slowly squats on the ground and brings his phone to his forehead. His heart is beating so hard that he can feel it in his temples. Squeezing his phone in his hands, he closes his eyes and doesn’t open them until the urge to cry passes.

“Ah,” Makoto breathes. His hand travels to his chest and he balls up the front of his shirt in his hand. It’s so stupid, it’s stupid and he knows it. He knows how silly he’s being, like a boy straight out of a shoujo magazine, but he can’t help it. Not when Sousuke does things like this. Not when he’s so heartbreakingly cute under that hard exterior.

When he’s got his heartbeat under control, he lifts his head and laughs at the text screen. He had accidentally typed gibberish with his forehead. Makoto erases the message and holds his thumb on the picture Sousuke sent him. He saves the image to his phone, not ever wanting to give it up. Laughing softly to himself, he takes a picture of his grinning face and adds the caption ‘ _having some trouble studying by yourself?_ ’.

The next picture from Sousuke is just his middle finger.

_[Shut up.]_

Makoto laughs. He laughs and laughs until he loses balance in his squatting position and falls over on his butt. He laughs until there are tears in his eyes, then leans back on the fence behind him and tips his head back on the wooden post. Taking a deep breath, he holds his phone close and looks up at the stars.

_[It’s really nice out here. I can’t see the stars at night in Tokyo.]_

Makoto sends the text and gets a reply within moments.

_[I wish I was there. It’s boring up here without you around.]_

The smile that spreads across his face is so big that it hurts his cheeks. He taps out a response.

_[I think you’re the one who misses me.]_

_[I miss your brain, idiot. Come back and help me with this shit. I’ve got a headache.]_

_[I’ll be back Sunday afternoon, I promise.]_

Sousuke doesn’t respond for a while after that and Makoto thinks he might’ve fallen asleep mid-text. It doesn’t matter. Makoto’s heart feels so light that he’s half-convinced he’s about to fall over dead. In a bit of a daze, Makoto stands and stumbles towards the staircase down to his house.

He can’t sleep for a long time, even after he gets in bed. By the time he falls asleep it’s three in the morning. His phone remains loosely gripped in his hand as he sleeps, Sousuke’s picture illuminating his face.

\---

“Makoto, stop yawning,” Haru deadpans. Makoto laughs mid-yawn and bumps into Haru with his shoulder. They’re currently seated in the bleachers at the aquatic center of a relatively local university, watching the schools (including Iwatobi) warm up in the pools. Usually prefecturals are held in an outdoor pool, but due to emergency renovations being made to the usual pool, this year a university just outside of Iwatobi is hosting the event. “Did Ran and Ren keep you up?”

“Mmm… something like that,” Makoto mumbles sleepily. He rubs his eyes and looks to his left. Miss Miho and Coach Sasabe are there, along with some new faces. The support for the Iwatobi Swim Club has increased a lot. Their section fills up two rows and includes both parents and teachers who have come to watch the competition. The thought makes Makoto smile.

However, one face is missing from this crowd. Gou left to get something to drink quite a while ago, and hasn’t returned since. Even stranger, no matter how much Makoto squints, he can’t seem to find Rei among the Iwatobi swimmers who are warming up.

“Haru, have you seen Rei down there?” Makoto asks. He feels worry begin to pool in his stomach. Haru squints and shakes his head.

“No,” he says. “Cramps?”

“That’s definitely not it,” Makoto sighs. He stands. “Maybe something happened. I’m going to go see if I can find him.”

“Ugh. What a pain,” Haru gripes, shoving his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. “Do we have to?”

“You don’t have to come,” Makoto says as he climbs up the bleachers and towards the exit. Haru doesn’t stop following him. “Stay there if you want.”

“…I’ll come.”

Makoto smiles and shakes his head. Haru’s not very good at masking his genuine concern. Together, they leave the stadium and out into the surrounding hallways. They walk around the perimeter of the stadium, searching for Rei and Gou, but can’t seem to locate them. Makoto assumes they’re together and prays that he’s not wrong. If something bad happened and Rei can’t compete at his full power, they’ll be in trouble for the relay.

“…really not… enough credit…”

“…All you do… saying things like… last year…”

“Do you hear that?” Makoto whispers. He leads Haru to a random hall that’s branching out from the main hall and presses against the wall. Very carefully, he sidles along the wall and pokes his head around the corner. Sure enough, Rei and Gou are there, about a quarter of the way down the hallway. They’re facing each other. Rei’s gesturing to both himself and Gou while Gou stands there hugging herself and looking at the floor. The moment Makoto sees them, he ducks back out of view. “Rei and Gou are down there, Haru.”

“What are they talking about?” Haru asks. Makoto puts a finger to his lips.

“Sh-hh, listen.”

“Well yes, of course I say things like ‘it’s our last year’. I want Nagisa-kun to take this seriously. It’s our last year to make an impact in Iwatobi and show everyone what our club is made of,” Rei is explaining. His voice sounds almost desperate. “I want it to continue going even after we’re gone.”

“That’s not why I’m upset. I _know_ this is our last year,” Gou says, her voice getting a little softer. Sadder. “I accepted that when Makoto-senpai and Haruka-senpai passed the club down to us. But… I just…”

“Gou-san.”

There’s silence for a long time.

“Please tell me what’s wrong,” Rei’s voice echoes. There’s another long pause before Makoto hears a loud sniffle.

“You said it yourself,” Gou says. Her voice breaks and Makoto’s heart sinks as she starts to cry. He’s never heard her cry before. “This is our last year. After this, we’ll graduate and separate. A-And… you and Nagisa-kun, you won’t be… you won’t be with me anymore.”

“… I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“Of course I do! You must think I’m talking nonsense, because I’m only the girl who loves muscles, right? I’m incapable of real feelings, because the swim club is only an excuse to look at boys all day. That’s what you think, right?! Well, you’re wrong! The swim club means _everything_ to me, Nagisa-kun means the world to me, and you… _you_ …” Gou chokes. “You think it’s only you and Nagisa-kun who are going to be sad to leave, but you’re _wrong!_ ”

Makoto listens to Gou sob and he can barely take it. Half of him wants to turn around the corner and sweep her up into his arms.

“You always leave me behind,” she sniffles. “Even last year. Nobody told me what was happening with Haruka-senpai… Makoto-senpai…and now even _you_ are keeping secrets from me. I’m tired of it! I’m tired of being… b-being cast aside, because I’m just the manager. Because I’m a girl. Don’t you think I wish I could be a boy for one day so I can feel like part of the team, too? I can’t stand it!”

“It’s not about the swim club,” Rei says quietly. “I’m not keeping secrets from you about the swim club.”

“Then _what?_ ”

“U-Um…”

There’s a long silence before Gou lets out a sigh.

“…Fine. I quit. It’s so obvious that I’m of no use to this club, to _you_ , anymore,” Gou whispers. “I’m going home.”

“Gou-san, _wait!_ ”

There’s a smacking sound of flesh on flesh and Makoto jumps. Did Gou slap him? He peeks around the corner. No, Rei’s just holding fast to her arm.

“ _Amazing_ ,” Haru whispers beside Makoto. Makoto looks to him and he’s starry-eyed. Makoto claps his hand over Haru’s mouth and presses them both against the wall once more.

“I like you!”

There it is. Rei’s voice echoes through the hallway. Silence.

“Wh-What?”

“I like you, Gou-san. For the longest time, I… I just… I didn’t want it to look like I was favoring you. I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t want rumors to spread in the club. Because I know you like muscles and it’s weird, but it’s just part of you. You can’t help it, and I’m alright with that. But if the team saw that there were any hints of feelings towards you, I don’t know if they’d drag your name through the mud. Or mine. I don’t know this team well enough. Every day, it seems more and more like I can trust them, but I just… I have to _know_ \--”

“…To keep me safe?” Gou asks. Rei sighs.

“ _Yes_. And regarding the comments about it being our last year? I bicker with Nagisa-kun a lot, but I assure you I have no intentions to let our friendship end. No matter what it takes. And um… I never intended to leave you, either. Rin-san will be angry and he’ll do everything he can to keep you away from me. I don’t care. I don’t care, so please, Gou-san, will you be my girlfr--”

There’s a sudden _thump_ and Rei’s words are abruptly cut off.

“Mm—hnn? Mm _gah_ , Gou-san!” Rei exclaims.

“Did he kiss her?” Haru whispers next to Makoto.

“I think she kissed him,” he whispers back. Haru doesn’t say anything, but he gives Makoto a thumbs-up with a blank expression on his face.

“I like you too, Rei-kun!” Gou cries. Makoto can hear the giant smile in her voice.

“O-Oh… is that so?” Rei laughs nervously. “Ugh… I was gonna say something cool about swimming the 800m just for you. It was going to be beautiful, but you’re so _impatient_ —”

“Yep!”

“We should leave,” Makoto murmurs. Haru, looking reluctant, nods his head and they leave together while Rei and Gou hold each other tightly.

\---

Moments before the second heat of the 800m freestyle starts, Haru lets out a sigh and crosses his arms beside Makoto. Makoto looks at him, a small smile on his face.

“What is it?” he asks. Haru shrugs.

“So Rei can be brave, after all,” Haru muses. Makoto laughs.

“I guess so,” he says. Nagisa suddenly appears beside them, a towel around his neck. He’s rosy-cheeked and happy, having had qualified for the 100m breaststroke at regionals.

“Hey guys!” he says, flopping down between Makoto and Haru. Haru protests when Nagisa shakes out his hair and sends droplets of water everywhere. “I didn’t miss Rei-chan’s race, right?”

 _“Rei-kun!”_ Gou suddenly cries from the railing in front of the bleachers. Her hands are cupped over her mouth and she’s leaning so far forward Makoto’s worried she might go tipping off the edge. Makoto looks down at the pool, where the swimmers are lining up. Rei’s in one of the center lanes. He looks very serious and focused when he steps up to the starting block, but when Gou cries out for him, he smiles.

“Awww, Gou-chan didn’t cheer for _me_ like that,” Nagisa pouts. Makoto laughs and Haru just smiles and looks away. “Whaaat? What are you two so smiley for?”

“Take your marks.”

Rei gets down into position and tenses for the whistle. When it blows, he dives with perfect form and the race begins.

 “ _Go, go, go, go, go, Rei-ii!_ ” everyone yells, echoing Coach Sasabe as he leads the cheering. Gou is the loudest of them all, putting her whole body into the shouts.

Rei’s front crawl has vastly improved, putting him nearly on par with the rest of the other swimmers. In the last two laps, Rei’s speed nearly doubles and he catches up to the other swimmers at an unbelievable pace. Makoto stands, cheering hard. Nagisa joins him, and then Haru’s there too. It reminds Makoto of old times, when they’d cheer on the final leg of the medley relay. For a brief moment, he can almost feel the spark of competition in his bones. He wonders if the others feel connected again, too.

The race ends, and Rei gets second place by an incredibly thin margin. There’s a tense pause before the scoreboard changes: his time qualifies for regionals.

Gou and Nagisa scream together, embracing and jumping up and down while the Iwatobi Swim Club roars.

“Captaaain!” they scream in unison. Across the way, Makoto can hear the faint sound of Samezuka’s victory cry as well. Sure enough, one of the swimmers is from Samezuka and had won first place.

Down in the pool, Rei leans up against the lane markers, panting. He looks up at the scoreboard, smiles, and looks up at Gou. Gou’s answering smile is bright and full of meaning as she lifts her hand in a little wave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friend [Diana](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to take an aside here to talk about the last two chapters. Let's start off by saying that I love, LOVE, Gou as a character in Free!. I also adored her dynamic relationship with both Rei and Nagisa, and wanted desperately to write about their adventures at least a little bit. Overall, I think Gou is largely ignored in both canon and fanon... and would imagine she'd be pretty upset about that if she could ever break the 4th wall and see how her character is treated. I wish she could've been explored more in the anime itself. Free! brought up so many subplots that could've been expanded on: Gou and Rei's (Platonic/Romantic?? We'll never know) relationship, Gou and her brother's relationship, Gou and the Mikoshiba brothers... the list goes on and on. I really think Free! dropped the ball on her character! Seeing as FEFSKY is a fanfiction about love and developing relationships, I thought ReiGou would be a cute (and quick), tongue-in-cheek inclusion. That being said, I promise those chapters weren't pointless fillers! There's a reason I peppered SouMako interaction in with those chapters. Their relevance will be revealed in due time, don't you worry.
> 
> But WALL OF TEXT ASIDE, I have been anxiously awaiting the release of this chapter! My beta and I have worked very hard on this chapter and we both hope you all enjoy it, since I enjoyed writing it!

On Saturday, Iwatobi wins the medley relay by a whole two seconds. Granted, Samezuka’s relay team wasn’t in their heat and actually scored a better time than Iwatobi. However, the team is more than satisfied with their results. Makoto and Haru return to the high school with them on the train, listening to their cheering and singing the whole way back.

When it’s all over, the five of them go out for dinner, paid for by Rei’s very proud parents. Naturally, Rei and Gou sit next to each other at the dinner table. Outwardly, it appears that nothing has changed, but there is an atmosphere of tenderness around them. Makoto and Nagisa think it’s cute, while Haru is much more interested in his dinner.

At the end of the night, it’s time to say goodbye again. There are tears, mostly from the third-years, but Makoto feels a little tightness in his throat as well. He didn’t realize how much he missed these three until he was actually with them again. It feels too soon to say goodbye.

But life must go on. They exchange at least four more hugs before Makoto and Haru head back to Makoto’s home to spend the night one last time. In the morning, Makoto’s parents hand them two boxes containing snacks, clothes, and school supplies. Another care package before they head back to Tokyo.

Makoto can’t stop thinking about Sousuke and has to actively prevent himself from trying to text him every five minutes. He bounces his leg during the entire flight back to Tokyo. He wants to see him so desperately that it feels like his heart is going to wear a hole in his sternum and fall out of his torso completely.

“You seem eager to get to Tokyo,” Haru comments, looking over. He had taken the seat closest to the window so he could stare out of it. Makoto immediately stops bouncing his leg.

“Sorry. I’m not being a very good friend right now, am I?” he asks with an apologetic smile. Haru just huffs and looks back out the window.

“I didn’t say that.”

\---

By the time Makoto gets back to his dorm, it’s one in the afternoon. Despite how early it is in the day, he’s feeling exhausted. Dragging his feet to his door, he unlocks it and steps inside. A wave of comfort passes over him. He’s away from home, but his dorm is the closest thing he has to a ‘home’ here in Tokyo. He’s glad he made the decision to ditch the apartment idea. Getting an apartment had been the original plan, but the expenses definitely made him shy away. He’d rather live in an uncomfortably small living space than pay ludicrous amounts of money for an apartment.

He turns on his light just so he can put his small amount of luggage away. Setting his parents’ care package on his desk, he kicks off his shoes and flops into bed with a huge sigh. Almost immediately his eyelids get heavy as he dozes on top of his sheets.

There’s a knock at the door sometime later—Makoto doesn’t know how long he’s been snoozing.

“It’s open!” he calls in his sleepy voice. He shuts his eyes again and rolls onto his back, draping his elbow over his eyes. Distantly, he can hear his door creaking open and shutting again as someone enters his room.

Makoto lifts his arm from his face, plopping it onto the pillow above his head. He lies there, disheveled, with his shirt hiked up his torso. At some point in his half-nap, he had unbuttoned his jeans for a little more comfort, and now they’re riding rather low on his hips and putting his black boxer-briefs on display.

Sousuke is standing over him, looking down at his face before his eyes travel downwards. He takes a breath like he’s going to say something but closes his mouth again and looks back up at Makoto’s eyes.

“Tired, huh?” he asks shortly. Makoto nods and looks down at himself. Realizing he’s putting on a rather suggestive display, he murmurs something incoherently, pulls down his shirt, and buttons his jeans. He’s too sleepy to mind that Sousuke saw him like this.

“Yeah,” Makoto says, still too dazed to focus on speaking. He closes his eyes again and hums. There’s sudden weight beside him on the bed as Sousuke sits down.

“I was wondering if you’d like to come back to my place to study today. I live alone, so nobody will interrupt us.”

That wakes Makoto up. His eyes flicker open and Sousuke looks back down at him with indifferent eyes as always.

“Your place?” he asks. He sits up partway, leaning on his elbows. “You have an apartment?”

“Uh… yeah. My dad’s paying for it, actually. He wanted me to live with him, but I… you know what, never mind. Do you want to come to my place or not?”

“Yeah!” Makoto says a little too eagerly, sitting up fully. Sousuke snorts and smirks at him, shaking his head.

Makoto gathers his things as quickly as he can while Sousuke fiddles with his phone by the door. Once he’s ready, he slings his backpack over his shoulder and follows Sousuke out of his dorm, down the elevator, and out onto the street. However, Sousuke doesn’t start walking towards the subway. He’s walking towards the parking garage across the street from Makoto’s dorm.

“You have a car?” Makoto asks. Sousuke looks over his shoulder and shrugs.

“Yeah. What of it?” he asks. Makoto’s mouth pops open and he jogs a little to walk alongside Sousuke instead of tagging along behind him.

“That’s so cool! What kind is it?” he asks. Sousuke scratches the back of his head and looks away.

“Uh… a crappy old sedan. It’s nothing fancy,” he says. “Toyota. It’s a 2003 Allion.”

Makoto has no idea what that even is, but he smiles like he does. Sousuke glances at him and looks away again. There’s somewhat of an awkward atmosphere around him and Makoto has no idea what’s causing it. He looks at Sousuke, trying to figure out what sort of expression he’s wearing. Frustration? Not quite. He looks almost flustered with his lips pulled tightly together.

“Um, is everything okay?” Makoto finally asks as they head into the parking garage and get onto the elevator to ride up to the level on which Sousuke is parked. Sousuke shakes his head.

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry ‘bout it,” he says. He sure doesn’t look okay. With an unsettling feeling in his gut, Makoto follows Sousuke off the elevator and to his car. It’s a black car with quite a few dents and scratches on it. A bit of rust has begun to spread just above the wheels. It’s an older vehicle, but still looks relatively nice. Wondering just how well off Sousuke’s family is, Makoto climbs into the passenger side and buckles up while Sousuke gets in and starts the car.

Sousuke’s driving is fast, but not recklessly so. In fact, he’s quite the cautious and attentive driver. Not once does Makoto feel scared while in Sousuke’s car. He seems to know this part of Tokyo like the back of his hand. Sousuke maneuvers through traffic with ease and drives out of the downtown area and into a quieter area of Tokyo. Here, the buildings aren’t quite so high and the traffic isn’t so daunting. Makoto stares out the window at the passing buildings. There’s a lot more greenery here. Parks. Gardens. It’s more of a residential area than strictly urban.

Sousuke pulls into a parking lot in front of a three-story apartment building. It looks rather plain, kind of like the outside of Haru’s apartment. Sousuke finds a parking spot and puts his car in park. He looks over at Makoto and gestures at his apartment building with a bored look on his face.

“Well, here it is,” he says. He unbuckles his seatbelt and gets out of his car. Makoto quickly follows, momentarily fumbling his seatbelt before practically falling out of the car. The uneasiness in Makoto’s belly hasn’t left him yet, mostly because Sousuke seems so tense. He’s been out of it for the past twenty minutes and Makoto can’t pinpoint why.

“I’m on the second floor, so we have to take the stairs,” Sousuke says, pressing a button on his car keys and locking it. Swinging the keys around his index finger, he starts walking towards the building.

“You live closer than Haru does,” Makoto says. He jogs to catch up to Sousuke, who just grunts at him. “He’s probably… twenty minutes away from campus?”

“Huh,” Sousuke says. He’s obviously not interested. Makoto lets out a sigh as he follows Sousuke up the steps. Was the trip to Iwatobi damaging or something? Sousuke seems to have reverted to his former self before he opened up to Makoto. Either that or something happened to him while Makoto was gone. Makoto’s eyes naturally drift to Sousuke’s right shoulder. Maybe…?

Sousuke’s room number is 203, and only a short distance from the top of the stairs. Silently, he inserts his key into the lock and twists. Makoto holds his breath as the door opens.

It’s a normal apartment. Actually, it’s probably a little nicer than Haru’s apartment. It’s a modern style apartment as well—no tatami mats. To the left of the entry way is the kitchen. Straight through is a living and dining area. To the right is the door to what is presumably the bathroom. Down the hall and to the right is Sousuke’s bedroom.

“Sorry for the intrusion,” Makoto says awkwardly. Sousuke stares at him for a second before his lips slowly lift into an easy smile. For a split second, the tension melts away as Sousuke snickers at him.

“Relax. Come on in,” Sousuke says. He kicks off his shoes and Makoto does the same. Hugging his backpack, he follows Sousuke into his home and watches as he goes into the kitchen and opens the refrigerator door. “Want something to drink?”

“U-Um… water please,” he says. Sousuke grabs a cola for himself and a water bottle for Makoto, which he tosses without warning. Makoto yelps and fumbles it with one hand, his other arm occupied with holding his backpack. When he successfully catches it, he sighs in relief. 

“Bedroom,” Sousuke says, opening his cola as he walks down the hall and into his bedroom. Blushing, Makoto follows and enters his room. It’s a nice, clean bedroom. Sousuke has a double-sized bed up against the right wall, with his desk up against the left. In between the desk and the bed is a small, short-legged table with three cushions around it. The table itself is a mess and is covered with magazines, textbooks, pencils, and a lot of eraser shavings. Hanging on the walls is a variety of posters; some of them are swimming-related posters and there are a few pin-ups of women, too. They’re not naked or anything, but Makoto still feels uncomfortable looking at them. On the other hand, it smells nice in here. It smells like chlorine and Sousuke. A little bit of cologne, too. Something spicy.

“Your bedroom is nice,” Makoto comments while Sousuke tosses his bookbag onto his bed and flops down on the mattress. “It’s very… you.”

“Are you saying that about the disaster on my table or about the whole room in general?” Sousuke asks, his voice a little teasing. Makoto smiles and laughs quietly.

“The whole room in general, of course. So, you wanna just go over Wednesday’s stuff?” Makoto asks as he sets his backpack down on the floor. He kneels on a pillow and takes out his glasses. Slipping them on his face, he pulls his notebooks out and looks up at Sousuke expectantly. Sousuke is just looking at him, unblinking, his lips pulled down into a frown and his eyebrows furrowed. Makoto feels a shiver go up his spine. “…Sousuke?”

“Yeah. Wednesday’s stuff,” Sousuke echoes. He grabs his notebook out of his bag and slides off of his bed. Taking a seat adjacent to Makoto, he takes out a pencil and opens his notebook up to the last page of notes. He leans back against his bed, which is right behind him. “Mm… so… cytoplasm.”

Sousuke puts his head down and Makoto watches him as he almost obsessively runs his finger along the notes he wrote. He’s getting better at them, that’s for sure, but they’re still kind of sloppy and unorganized.

“Yes, that was one of the topics,” Makoto says. Sousuke’s acting so strange. Fidgety, flustered, frustrated, a mixture of the three. “Cytoplasm; the cellular material outside the nucleus but within the walls of the plasma membrane. It’s where all the organelles are located and… Sousuke, this was the basic information needed to understand the cell unit. Are you sure we need to go over this part?”

“Makoto.”

Makoto jumps as Sousuke suddenly slams his notebook closed.

“Y-Yes?” he stammers, tapping his fingers together nervously. Sousuke’s eyes become dark as he stares at the table and taps his pencil on his notebook.

“There’s something I want to talk to you about,” he says. “I wanted to talk to Rin about it, but… it’s complicated, and I know he’ll respond poorly. So I want to talk to you, because I don’t know who else to turn to right now.”

Makoto sets his pencil down and gives Sousuke his undivided attention. At first his heart rate had picked up. Some dark, evil part of him wants Sousuke to admit his undying attraction for him, but the other part of him curses himself for thinking like that at all in the first place. Sousuke heaves a sigh.

“On Saturday, I had a doctor’s appointment. Just a checkup. Seemed pretty ticked off to be there on the weekend, but they really wanted to see how my shoulder was doing. And I thought it’d be alright. I’ve been resting it like you said, trying not to move it too much. But they took an MRI, and…” Sousuke trails off. His hand goes to his right shoulder and touches it very gently. He pulls his hand away quickly, as if resisting the urge to roll his shoulder. “I tore the rotator cuff really bad.”

“Tore the rotator cuff?” Makoto echoes. Sousuke nods and swallows, making a face as if he had just tasted something bitter.

“Doctor said it was real common, but that I could’ve prevented it from being bad had I actually… if I had just,” Sousuke says. He puts his head in his hand and tugs at his hair. “If I had just stopped being an idiot for just a _second_ , I could’ve…”

Makoto looks down at the table, feeling terrible for Sousuke.

“But that’s not even… ha,” Sousuke says. He laughs at the end and tips his head back against his bed. His lips are tightly pulled together as he pushes his bangs back and stares at the ceiling. “That’s not even the worst part. They said I’m developing spurs. Do you know what that is?”

“N-No…”

“It’s… it’s when there’s… growths on your bone. The doctor said I was developing them because I had a full rotator cuff tear and it wasn’t properly protecting this bone--” Sousuke gestures to the uppermost part of his shoulder. “—on the underside. The doctor said I would have to go under the blade if I ever wanted even a partial recovery, much less a full recovery.”

“Under the _blade?!_ ” Makoto practically shrieks, his whole body cringing at the thought. Sousuke, who looks like he’s on the verge of tears, just looks at Makoto for a moment before he laughs softly.

“…No, Makoto. Surgery. The doctor wants me to get _surgery_ on my shoulder,” Sousuke says gently. His smile fades almost instantly. “I don’t know what to do. If my dad found out, he’d…”

Sousuke looks away, resentment crossing over his features. Makoto watches him. His throat feels tight. He can’t stand to see Sousuke so sad.

“God. It’s not like my life’s in danger,” Sousuke spits, rolling his eyes. “I hate that I’m so worked up about this. And my dad’s just going to make it worse. He’ll probably freak out, shut down the company, force me to move out to Sweden or something, and… Makoto?”

Makoto blinks, realizing he has been staring at Sousuke’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I’m… I just can’t imagine you being in so much pain,” he admits. Sousuke pinches his lips together, rubs the back of his head, and looks off to the side.

“…Ah, jeez. Not you, too. Look. It’s fine. The more I think about it, the more I want to kick something. First I bust it up, make Rin cry ‘cuz I can’t swim, then I give him hope that I’m gonna swim with him again one day and I _can’t_ , at least not _competitively_ , and--”

“Sousuke.”

Sousuke stops and Makoto leans forward until he’s on his hands and knees, crawling towards Sousuke. He doesn’t even care that Sousuke looks so taken aback by his sudden advancements.

“Whoa. Yo. Yes?” Sousuke asks. Makoto gets up right next to him, kneeling at his side with his knees touching the side of his thigh.

“Can I see it?” Makoto asks. It comes out in a whisper and, honestly, he doesn’t mean to be this close. The tension spikes in the room and the temperature rises as Makoto exhales slowly through his parted lips. Sousuke gulps audibly and nods once, never taking his eyes off of Makoto’s. He starts to pop the buttons on his shirt, hands traveling all the way down until the fabric parts. He’s not wearing an undershirt. Makoto swallows, eyes traveling down the upper half of his body. His abs fold when he sits slumped over like this, and Makoto is overtaken by an intense urge to touch them.

Sousuke pushes the fabric aside and off of his right shoulder, revealing the slim, Velcro shoulder brace. Feeling a little breathless, Makoto reaches up and touches it, running his fingers along the edge. Again Sousuke shies away. This time, Makoto withdraws his hand.

“…Sorry…” he apologizes in an exhale. Sousuke clears his throat.

“Uh, no problem. Let me just…” he mutters. He tears away the Velcro strap and slides his brace off. His shoulder looks kind of purple and yellow. There isn’t a lot of red, but the discoloration there is a little freaky looking. Sousuke grimaces at it. “Uh… yeah, don’t mind--”

“Can I touch it?” Makoto asks. Sousuke goes quiet for a long while before finally nodding and looking pointedly away.

“Jeez, fine. Just don’t grab it or anything, alright? It still hurts.”

“I know,” Makoto says. With gentle hands, he runs feather-light touches down the slope of Sousuke’s shoulder. His skin is so smooth. Makoto sighs and his breath fans over Sousuke’s shoulder. Sousuke tenses beside him, but soon relaxes as Makoto continues very carefully touching his shoulder. It looks so painful, almost alien. The swelling has gone down but it’s still hot to the touch and tender. This shoulder hurts so bad Sousuke can’t even lift his arm above his head. He can’t swim at all because of this shoulder. He has cried because of this shoulder.

“Hey,” Sousuke murmurs. “Makoto.”

Makoto looks up and Sousuke tilts his head, expression blank as his good arm slowly moves. He slowly raises his hand, up past Makoto’s forearm and his elbow and his shoulder, past his neck and finally to his cheek.

Sousuke’s fingertips stroke along Makoto’s cheek just under his glasses. Makoto feels cold dampness spread across his skin. When he blinks, tears dribble out of his eyes and down his face. Sousuke’s lips pull down further into a deeper frown.

“Why are you _crying_?” Sousuke asks. He doesn’t sound mad, just regretful. Almost afraid, even. Makoto reaches up, pulls off his glasses, and folds them in his hand. With the other, he rubs his eyes.

“I don’t know,” Makoto breathes. “I’m sad.”

“Why are you sad?” Sousuke whispers. His voice is so _low_. Makoto almost doesn’t notice his fingers gliding down his cheek, past his jaw, and behind his ear. Those warm fingertips card partway into his hair. Shivers course through his bones, and the resulting sound he releases is halfway between a sigh and a whimper. Sousuke’s thumb wipes away another tear as he slowly brings him closer. His eyes are half-lidded, glazed.

“Because you’re in so much pain and I can’t do anything… about…” Makoto trails off. He doesn’t finish, his eyes already closed and his head tilting. As he inhales, he feels Sousuke lean in close.

Their lips touch, and they’re kissing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friend [Diana](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **It has been recently brought to my attention that I missed some information regarding Sousuke and Makoto: in High Speed! (the light novel Free! is based on), Haru and Sousuke got in a fight in middle school and Makoto was the one to break it up. So no, in canon Makoto had already met, or had at least seen, Sousuke before Splash Fest!. Regarding this, I apologize for any confusion I have caused! For the sake of simplicity, I'm going to keep FEFSKY the way it is, but just know that I do acknowledge my mistake. 
> 
> Thank you!

Makoto has never kissed anyone in his life. Well, alright, he has kissed a fake fish before, and he has ‘performed CPR’ on Haru due to Nagisa’s pushiness more times than he’d like to admit. But he has never kissed with the intention to _kiss_.

It doesn’t last long enough for him to really react. When Sousuke pulls away from him, their dry lips stick together just a tiny bit. Shaking, Makoto keeps his eyes closed for a second longer. His whole face is on fire, the blush on his cheeks redder than it has ever been. When he finally opens his eyes and properly looks at Sousuke, he’s got somewhat of a sour look on his face as he buttons up his shirt. It takes him a while before he speaks.

“…What was that.”

It’s more of a statement than a question. Makoto releases the breath he had been holding and looks down at his hands in his lap. He has such a tight grip on his glasses he’s surprised they haven’t been crushed.

“Y-You kissed me,” Makoto says. Sousuke stays silent and Makoto’s brain frantically tries to register what exactly just happened. “Why did you kiss me?”

Sousuke doesn’t answer him and instead reaches up and wipes the back of his wrist against his lips.

“Sousu--”

“I don’t _know_ , alright?” Sousuke snaps. “I wasn’t thinking straight. I-- _shit_.”

Makoto lets his legs slip out from underneath him and leans up against Sousuke’s bed. If the bed wasn’t here, he’d collapse for sure. He’s still quivering and his limbs feel heavy.

“You were crying and I didn’t know what to do,” Sousuke explains. He sounds desperate. “Your eyes… your eyes were… and your lips…”

Sousuke slaps his hand over his eyes and just sits there. There’s a blush on his face that reaches all the way down his neck and chest. Both of them are blushing messes, really, neither of them knowing what to do.

“Look, I don’t know what that was. I’m sorry, I guess?” Sousuke huffs. Makoto shakes his head.

“It’s fine,” he says. He’s still a little breathless. Sousuke gives him a long look before he sharply looks away and glowers at the wall.

“I think maybe you should go.”

“…Eh? But what about the studying?” Makoto asks. Sousuke throws his hand up in a helpless gesture and gives Makoto an extravagant roll of his eyes.

“ _Studying?_ Dude, I don’t know if you know this, but we just—god, I can’t even say it,” Sousuke groans. Makoto feels a cold chill seep through him. Sousuke looks absolutely revolted.

“Was it really that disgusting?” Makoto asks softly. Sousuke grimaces at him.

“What? Of course it was. Are you kidding me?” he asks. He sounds pissed off. Makoto looks away and brings his glasses back to his face with shaking hands. Fumbling with his things, he starts shoving his stuff in his bag. Sousuke heaves an irritated sigh. “Whatever. I’ll drive you ba--”

“It’s _fine!_ ” Makoto yells. The sudden volume shuts Sousuke up and startles Makoto. He clears his throat and plasters on a false smile. He doesn’t even try to make it look real. “It’s okay! I’ll leave. You don’t have to burden yourself.”

Sousuke stares at him for a good long while, but when their eyes meet his face goes completely blank. Makoto can practically see the gears turning in Sousuke’s brain. Sousuke’s mouth suddenly falls open. However, Makoto doesn’t give him the time to respond. He hurries out of Sousuke’s room and down the hall. Shoving his feet in his shoes, he throws the door open and slams it behind him.

Sousuke doesn’t follow.

This is awful. This is the worst day of Makoto’s life. He’s not devastated. He’s not sad. He’s furious. Resentment fills him. The nerve! The absolute _gall_ to actually kiss him and then look at him like the scum of the earth—

Okay, Sousuke probably isn’t disgusted with _Makoto_ as much as he is disgusted with the _situation._ Actually, he probably isn’t as _disgusted_ as he is _confused_ , but Makoto isn’t really thinking straight right now. It’s about a mile to the nearest metro station, but he power-walks the whole way. It’s pretty hot out but it doesn’t slow Makoto down. He storms down into the terminal and boards the train.

During the entire trip, he brews and boils. However, Makoto’s physical body simply isn’t built for anger. While his insides are burning up, his outward appearance remains passive and gentle. The only thing that offers a look into his heart is his clenched fist and the vein in his neck bulging.

He doesn’t even know where he is when the train stops. However, it looks vaguely familiar in his state of heightened emotions, and he ends up wandering out of the station through muscle memory.

He’s at the station across the street from Haru’s apartment. Like a gust of wind, all of the anger flushes out of him and he’s left feeling empty. Makoto drags his feet as he walks across the street and to Haru’s apartment building. The two flights of steps he has to climb to get to the third floor feels like a climb up the mountain. Every step he takes makes him feel heavier.

This… really shouldn’t be a huge deal. He should’ve guessed Sousuke would be against that sort of thing. Makoto never even should’ve hoped to get _this_ far. His lifestyle isn’t normal.

Not. Normal.

Makoto barely has the strength to knock on Haru’s door. There’s no reply. Makoto knows the door is unlocked but he doesn’t reach for the handle. If Haru doesn’t open the door, he won’t come in. Besides, he’d rather curl up into a ball and die in his own dorm right now anyway.

But the door _does_ open. Haru appears in the doorway, ladle in hand. He looks somewhere between tired and irritated as usual, but the moment he sees Makoto’s face his eyebrows lift and his jaw goes slack.

“What’s wrong?” he asks instantly. Makoto shakes his head and puts a smile on his face.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he lies. Haru glares at him.

“Do you take me for some sort of idiot?” he deadpans. “Get in here.”

Makoto stumbles as Haru yanks him inside.

“Excuse me,” he says like a broken record. As he slips out of his shoes, Haru leaves him momentarily to turn off the stove. It smells like he’s cooking stew. The pot on the stove is big. Big enough for two.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Haru demands. Makoto just looks down, hand gripping the strap of his backpack with white knuckles. “Makoto.”

“It’s really fine. Nothing happened,” Makoto says. His voice shakes and Haru sighs dramatically.

“You’re a terrible liar,” he says. “Makoto. I thought we were going to try and talk more. I’ve been trying hard. I know I’m still not the best at communication, but I’m trying.”

“…I know,” Makoto mumbles. He sheds his backpack, sets it down near his shoes, and wanders into the living room. Haru follows, arms crossed. His face is blank but his body language says he’s worried. Makoto feels bad for doing this to him. It actually makes him feel a lot worse, so he lets out a groan and flops down on Haru’s couch. “I’m horrible. I’m sorry.”

Haru scoffs.

“I didn’t say you’re horrible,” Haru says. As Makoto buries his face in a throw pillow, he feels Haru’s presence beside him. When he looks up, Haru’s sitting on the floor next to him with his arm up on the couch and his head rested in his hand. “Tell me what happened.”

Makoto pouts and rolls onto his side so he’s facing Haru.

“Just… a whole bunch of stuff. Like…” Makoto trails off. Without warning, a massive growl rips itself from his belly. Silence.

“Hungry?” Haru snorts. Makoto slaps his hands over his face in embarrassment while Haru hauls himself to his feet. “Well, I thought you’d come over today.”

Haru blessedly leaves Makoto alone after that, leaving him to sulk on the couch. He feels like a sick child. When he was young, he got a terrible flu that lasted two weeks. Half of that time was probably spent on the family couch in the living room. Makoto would cry from the pain and frustration of not being able to do much of anything while his mother and father nursed him. Being here on this couch reminds him of that and makes him feel nostalgic. It’s embarrassing to admit, but he wishes he had his mom to comfort him right now. He briefly considers calling his mom, but is interrupted by Haru coming back into the room.

“It’s kenchinjiru,” Haru states, setting one bowl on his side of the dining table and the other bowl on the opposite side. “Sit and eat.”

Makoto nods and practically rolls off the couch. He shuffles over to the table on his knees and kneels on the cushion. The food in the bowl looks delicious. It’s a traditional Japanese stew with clear broth and a plethora of vegetables, tofu, and mushrooms. Haru has sprinkled scallions on top.

“Thank you for the meal,” Makoto says quietly. His first sip of soup is reluctant; he may be hungry but he doesn’t have the appetite. But… Haru’s cooking is good. Every bite tastes like home. His throat gets tighter and tighter as he eats. It’s getting harder and harder to swallow but Haru’s food envelops him like a blanket.

Makoto sets his empty bowl down. He wolfed it down but he doesn’t care. His throat spasms and he makes a gross, nasally sound. Taking his glasses off, he turns his head away and shields Haru from the display he’s putting on with the back of his wrist. It’s so ridiculous for a college boy to cry. He’s never been a weepy person. He may be a scaredy-cat and he may be a little less than masculine, but never weepy.

Hot tears roll down his cheeks anyway. The table is suddenly jostled, the silverware clanging against the wooden surface as Haru jumps up and rushes around to Makoto’s side.

“I’m fine,” Makoto hiccups. There’s no way Haru would know he had been crying literally forty-five minutes ago over a shoulder, but he feels pathetic anyway. As he hunches over, he feels Haru rubbing slow circles on his back. He doesn’t say anything, for which Makoto is immensely thankful.

He doesn’t sob. His crying is a mixture of ugly hiccups and snorting that he really can’t help, especially when he’s trying to hold it back like this. When his body can’t stand holding back another cry-induced convulsion, he lets it out in a thick, throaty gasp and a horrible-sounding cough.

“ _Makoto_ ,” Haru hisses. His tone is harsh but Makoto has known him long enough to know that saying his name is the only thing he can think of doing right now.

“It’s not normal,” Makoto croaks.

“What’s not normal?”

“Being gay. _I’m_ not n-normal.”

“Who told you that?” Haru asks sharply. Makoto doesn’t answer and Haru grabs his arm hard. Yanking it back, he forces Makoto to look at him. His eyes are burning with muted fury, and his lips are pulled together in a thin line. “Who said that? Tell me _now_.”

“I did,” Makoto sniffles. “I decided that myself, because--”

“Who is making you think that about yourself?” Haru presses. Before Makoto can say anything, his phone goes off in his pocket. Makoto’s hand flies to his pocket, but Haru is much faster.

“Haru, don’t!” he yelps. He may be bigger, but Haru’s got better control of his smaller body. He uses Makoto’s weight against him and pushes his arms away from his pocket. Makoto flops over onto his side on the tatami mat. Haru grabs both of his wrists and pins them down on the floor right next to Makoto’s chest. He doesn’t give Makoto any leverage or room to get away. Haru digs Makoto’s phone out of his pocket and he looks at the caller ID.

“ _Yamazaki?_ ” Haru whispers. He turns the phone towards Makoto and of course it’s Sousuke calling him. The picture Sousuke sent of himself is on full display. Makoto had set it to show any time Sousuke calls. His face begins to heat up almost instantly. Haru looks murderous. “Is this _him?_ The one you’ve been hanging out with?”

Makoto doesn’t answer, but his face tells the whole story. Haru keeps a firm hold on Makoto’s wrists with one hand. He uses the other to swipe his thumb across the ‘ _SLIDE TO ANSWER’_ bar and bring the phone to his ear.

“Yes, hello. Nanase Haruka here. Don’t _ever_ get in Makoto’s way again,” Haru says. His voice is monotone, yet somehow it still drips with venom. Haru promptly hangs up the phone and tosses it aside. He finally lets up on Makoto’s wrists. Makoto rolls onto his back as he stares up at Haru in awe.

“What did you mean when you said that?” Makoto asks. “He didn’t get in my way, he just…”

“I was just turning the tables on him,” Haru says darkly. He leaves it at that. Makoto is confused and a little scared, but he doesn’t complain as he sits up and sighs. Haru mimics him, also sighing and sitting back on his heels. “I’m sorry for butting in. Yamazaki and I have history. Bad history. You are off limits. Making you cry… it’s unforgiveable.”

Haru looks away, glowering. Without warning, he lashes out and bangs his fist on the table. Makoto nearly jumps out of his skin as Haru snarls to himself.

“Nobody, _nobody_ … would even _dare_ \--”

“Haru,” Makoto says. He sets his hand on top of Haru’s fist. It’s trembling, but as soon as the weight of Makoto’s hand settles there, he relaxes. Makoto smiles a true smile, head-tilt and all. “Thank you.”

Haru turns his head away.

“It… it’s nothing. It’s just… the fact that it was _Yamazaki_ who--”

Makoto gently squeezes Haru’s hand and he relaxes even more, shoulders slumping. He shakes his head.

“I… didn’t want to resolve this issue that way, to be honest,” Makoto admits. He laughs nervously and looks over at his phone, which is lying silently on the floor. “But I actually feel a little better.”

Haru blinks before his face melts into a very small smile.

“Good,” he says. Standing, he goes to the table and grabs both of their dishes. “I’ll take care of dishes.”

It’s not worth it to argue with Haru about it, so Makoto doesn’t. He nods and crawls to his phone. Sousuke didn’t call again. Feeling relieved, Makoto goes to the couch and clambers up onto it. Facing the back of the couch, he curls up into a ball a plays a game on his phone. It takes his mind off of everything for at least a little while.

\---

“I’m not setting up futons. Are you okay with that?”

Makoto looks up when Haru enters the room. Makoto has been lazing around on his couch all day, alternating between watching television and playing games on his phone. It’s late in the evening now. Sousuke still hasn’t called, and Makoto doubts he will. Haru’s face is as expressionless as always. Makoto just nods.

“Mhm. That’s okay,” Makoto agrees. Haru nods and retires to the bathroom. Makoto hears the bath running. So Haru wants to sleep together tonight? It’s been a long time since they’ve been in the same bed of such a small size. Makoto wonders if he’ll fall off the bed tonight.

“Put on some pajamas so I can wash your clothes for tomorrow,” Haru says, poking his head into the living room again.

“Alright,” Makoto says, distracted by his phone game. Holding his phone in one hand, he reaches down and begins fiddling with his belt buckle.

“Don’t undress _here_ , idiot.”

Makoto whines but obeys, his belt already undone. Holding up his pants, he goes to Haru’s room and digs around for some of his old shirts that Haru has collected and kept over the years. He finds his old beige and orange shirt, which looks relatively hideous now that he looks at it from this perspective. He pulls off his shirt and puts the orange one on. It’s not as loose on him as it used to be. Oh well.

He grabs a pair of Haru’s boxers, a pair that he rarely wears (Makoto knows because they’re folded and stuffed way in the back of his dresser), and replaces his boxer-briefs with them. Once he’s got his clothes all in a bundle, he takes them to Haru’s washer and dryer and throws them in.

Makoto yawns and returns to the bedroom, phone still in front of his eyes as he plays his game. He’s playing a variant of Bejeweled in which he must free butterflies by matching gems before they climb all the way up the board to the spider at the top. He’s up to a hundred and twelve butterflies now, a new personal best.

But video games don’t help the ache that has been slowly growing in his chest all night.

Makoto shuts off the light and climbs into Haru’s bed. Snuggling under the covers, he sighs and plays his game until he loses at a hundred and thirty five butterflies. Unable to bear staring at the bright screen any longer, he locks his phone and lies there in silent darkness. It allows his thoughts to fester inside of him.

So there really isn’t a chance with Sousuke, after all. Even if there had been, Haru probably scared that off. However, Makoto can’t help but feel happy that his friend would go through such lengths to protect him. At the end of the day, Haru holds priority over Sousuke. Makoto may be attracted to him, but no amount of attraction will hold a light to the relationship he has with Haru. The thought of losing him is unbearable to Makoto, while the thought of losing Sousuke is a temporary sharp pain at worst.

Makoto takes a deep breath and tells himself it’ll be okay. Tomorrow, he’ll go to class. Things will be different. Maybe Sousuke won’t talk to him at all. Maybe Sousuke will carry on like nothing has happened. But Haru is forever. His best friend, platonic soulmate, his brother. The pain will only be temporary.

…Temporary or not, it still hurts. Regardless of whether this lasts a week, a month, or a year, it’s the sharpest emotional pain Makoto has ever felt. During his and Haru’s big fight at the end of the swimming season last year, at least he had known that Haru wouldn’t stray far from him. Haru was in a bad place then, and Makoto knew he could bounce back.

Makoto doesn’t know anything about Sousuke. Sousuke might never even show himself to Makoto again, and the thought of it makes his throat tighten up all over again.

Haru’s bedroom door creaks open and Makoto rolls partway over to watch Haru pad into the room. He shuts the door behind him and, in the dark, maneuvers his way to bed. He climbs in behind Makoto. It’s snug, but not so snug that they’re uncomfortable.

“Makoto?” Haru asks. Makoto smiles as Haru spoons him. Even with his smaller body, he is an excellent cuddler.

“Mmm?” Makoto hums.

“Can I be honest with you?”

“Of course.”

Haru doesn’t speak for a long time. Makoto can feel his chest expand against his back every time he tries to start.

“I… don’t think you should pursue anything with Yamazaki,” Haru finally says. Makoto blinks, then smiles a bit sadly.

“Honestly, Haru…”

“I’m serious. He’s aggressive. He made Rin cry. Granted, that’s not hard. But he also made you cry. Please. There are plenty of men out there who will treat you the way you deserve to be treated. I don’t know what exactly happened with Yamazaki, but it sounds to me like he was pulling you along on a string,” Haru says. Makoto listens in silence. Haru doesn’t usually make long-winded tangents, but here he is. He’s deadly serious. Makoto just lets out a sigh.

“I was just thinking that… it wouldn’t be worth pursuing anything, anyway,” Makoto says. He laughs through his words, but the laughter is humorless and sad. His hand tightens against the sheets and, in turn, Haru’s arms tighten around his body. “I was rejected before I could even confess, so what’s the point?”

Makoto feels Haru’s face between his shoulder blades.

“…You’ll find someone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friend [Diana](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	13. Chapter 13

Makoto wakes up at nine in the morning to the sound of the alarm clock on his phone going off. He doesn’t remember setting it; Haru must have done it for him. Smiling, Makoto yawns and rolls over in bed. Haru’s not there, but there’s a note on the bedside table for Makoto. With another great yawn, Makoto reaches over to pick it up.

_At practice. Made breakfast. It’s in the fridge. Heat it up for two minutes in the microwave._

The note from Haru is a great way to start the day. Not wanting to dwell on the situation with Sousuke right now, Makoto gets out of bed and goes to the kitchen. He finds his clothes lying there on the kitchen table. They’re all neatly folded, even his boxer-briefs. Makoto smiles at the sight and grabs the breakfast Haru made him out of the fridge.

After eating, Makoto takes a shower and puts on his clothes. They’re the same clothes he wore yesterday, but nobody except Sousuke and Haru saw him yesterday, so it won’t be a big deal. When he’s got everything he needs, he steps into his shoes and locks Haru’s apartment on the way out.

\---

Makoto’s attention span gets shorter and shorter throughout his first class of the day. It’s even harder to concentrate in English than ever, and the clock feels like it’s moving twice as slow as it usually does. By the end of the first half hour, it’s almost painful to listen to his professor drone on and on about grammar and punctuation. That aside, his English _has_ been improving lately.

By the time class is released, Makoto is tempted to just skip his anatomy class. He really doesn’t want to confront Sousuke today, or even look at him. In fact, just the thought of that has his heart jumping into his throat. Plugging into his iPod, he tunes out everything around him as he walks towards the science building and drags his feet a little. Every step he takes, he’s more and more tempted to just turn around and go home, but he can’t seem to muster up the strength to actually go through with it.

He ends up in the lecture hall. It’s too late to turn back now, so Makoto trudges down to his usual seat in the center of the third row.

“Hey, Tachibana-kun!” Sato greets cheerfully. “How was your trip back to your hometown?”

Makoto turns in his seat to face Sato, but before he can fully turn around, he freezes.

Sousuke’s here. However, he’s not even relatively close to Makoto. Today he’s sitting in the way back right next to the doors to the exit. He looks like he just got back from the gym. Sitting next to him is a tiny girl with her hair pulled up into a cute little bun. She’s giggling and talking to Sousuke. Sousuke looks disinterested, but when Makoto looks at him, he holds his gaze expressionlessly. Makoto’s heart does a flip and he just about bangs his knee on the row of tables behind him. Sato gives him a bewildered look.

“You look like you just saw a ghost or something. Is everything okay?” she asks. Makoto flaps his lips before putting his head down on Sato’s desk.

“I want to go home,” Makoto wheezes. “I feel sick.”

He really does feel sick. It’s not as if he’s jealous of that girl; he knows Sousuke well enough to know that small talk doesn’t interest him at all whatsoever. It’s just that Sousuke would rather subject himself to someone’s incessant _yapping_ rather than sit next to Makoto. It hurts way more than Makoto ever expected.

“What’s wrong?” Sato asks, brows knitted. She looks over her shoulder and spots Sousuke fast. “Wha—wait, did something happen with Yamazaki-kun?”

“Ugh,” Makoto groans. He slaps his hands over his face.

“Ooooh,” she says. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Makoto sighs.

“No, but… what happened?”

“It’s a long story,” Makoto says. “I don’t want to burden you with my problems. It’s my own fault that it happened, so…”

“That’s a bunch of bull!” Sato exclaims. “Look, I won’t pressure you to say anything to me, I’m not about that. But don’t ever think that your problems are a burden to me. I’m your friend. Friends help friends.”

Sato abruptly stands and Makoto watches as she walks out of her row and down to Makoto’s row so she can sit next to him where Sousuke usually sits.

“There,” she says. She’s so much shorter now that she’s sitting on the same level as Makoto. She rolls her wheelie chair close and leans on Makoto for a moment. “I’ve got your back. If you want to tell me, go ahead. If you don’t, that’s cool, too.”

When she pulls away, she takes her notebook out of her backpack and flips it open to the last empty page. She has doodled a few flowers and hearts on the top of her paper, which makes Makoto smile a little bit. However, he can’t help the urge to glance back at Sousuke. Looking over his shoulder, he catches Sousuke’s eye for a second time. He’s been watching him the whole time? It puts Makoto on edge. Hunching over his notebook, he takes out a pencil and prepares for class to start.

Makoto can’t focus on notes at all. Not with Sousuke burning a hole into the back of his head. Why is he staring? Every time Makoto chances a glance back at him, he’s looking. Even if he’s not looking, he’ll look up a second later and catch Makoto looking at him. By the end of the class period, Makoto has written maybe half a page of notes.

“Jeez, my notes are so bad today,” Makoto laments. “Sato-san, could I borrow your notes some time so I don’t miss anything?”

“Sure. Actually, I was thinking I’d head over to that coffee place. Remember the one we went to after class that one time? Let’s go there and get some coffee and talk,” Sato says. She pauses. “And… there’s a Coming Out event there tonight, hosted by the LGBTQ group. It’ll be kinda busy, but I really think you should go. Not to come out or anything!”

Sato adds the last part quickly as Makoto puts a skeptical look on his face.

“Seriously, you don’t have to tell anyone about your sexuality. But they’re going to play some live music and it’ll be fun.”

“I suppose,” Makoto says. He stands from his chair and looks over his shoulder one last time. Sousuke is still packing his things. They usually go to the gym together right after this, but… he highly doubts Sousuke wants anything to do with him. Turning back to Sato, Makoto nods. “That’ll be fine.”

“Sweet!” Sato says. She grabs Makoto’s hand and tugs him out of their row and up the aisle to the exit of the lecture hall. They pass Sousuke, who looks up as they leave. Makoto tries not to look him in the eye. Makoto and Sato leave the room together, but don’t get a chance to go far.

“ _Oi!_ ”

Makoto freezes as Sousuke’s voice rings out behind him. He stops, which brings Sato to a screeching halt as well. They turn around together to see Sousuke making a beeline towards them, a scowl on his face. Makoto shuffles partially behind Sato, his hands on her shoulders. He can’t really hide behind her seeing as she’s much, much shorter than him, but he hunches his shoulders and tries to make himself as small as possible anyway.

“Not gonna work out?” Sousuke asks. Makoto blinks and looks up, thinking maybe Sousuke has forgotten all about it. However, the look on his face is one of frustration and nervousness. He hasn’t forgotten at all.

“I…”

“I don’t think he really feels like it,” Sato says. She puts a smile on her face but her words are pure ice. “We’re going somewhere together.”

“…Huh, wasn’t aware that Tachibana had a messenger,” Sousuke remarks dryly. He shoves his hands in his pockets and tilts his head forward. Makoto has never been so intimidated in his life. “Well, can you tell him that I tried calling him like six times this morning for water aerobics and he didn’t pick up?”

“I can hear you just fine,” Makoto whines, trying to get Sato to break her hateful gaze from Sousuke. “Don’t fight, please. S-…Sousuke, I didn’t see any missed calls.”

“Because you kept hanging up _immediately_ ,” Sousuke snaps. He glowers at him.

“I didn’t…” Makoto trails off. Then, he remembers. Around seven in the morning is when they go to aerobics. That’s about the time Haru would’ve been awake. That means Haru had heard Makoto’s phone going off and…

“Haru must’ve…” Makoto begins. Sousuke scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“Oh, _Nanase_. Butting his head into other peoples’ business as usual? Fine. I guess I won’t impose anymore,” Sousuke spits. Makoto tenses. “By the way, _really_ appreciate the message last night. Let him know I heard it _loud and clear._ ”

Makoto feels as if a dagger is being sunk into his belly and slowly twisted. Sousuke’s sarcasm is funny in any other context but this. His glare is piercing and terrifying. Makoto wants nothing more than to run away, maybe dig a hole somewhere, and bury himself in it.

“Look, I don’t know what happened here, but this isn’t the way to talk about it,” Sato says. “So Yamazaki-kun, I’m sorry but please go away.”

“This has nothing to do with you,” Sousuke snarls.

“Fine. Then _we’ll_ go away,” Sato snaps. She grabs Makoto’s hand and drags him away from Sousuke. Makoto stumbles after her, relieved to be getting away. Behind him, he hears Sousuke curse loudly and kick the wall.

“Sato-saaan,” Makoto whines. Sato pulls him into the elevator and they ride down together. She isn’t usually one to look so serious. Makoto thought she’d be the type to be cute when she’s mad, but she’s actually pretty scary. Tapping his fingers together, Makoto huddles up beside Sato while she stands there with her arms crossed and her face scrunched up in silent fury.

However, her anger fades as soon as they step out of the building. Sato releases Makoto’s hand and walks beside him in an easy stride.

“Um…” Makoto says. Sato holds up a hand.

“Stop. Don’t apologize, and don’t try to explain yourself,” she says. “You don’t like confrontation very much, do you?”

“I really don’t,” Makoto laughs awkwardly. Sato pats his back.

“I thought so. I just _had_ to pull you out of there. Yamazaki-kun is… ugh.”

“He’s just impulsive,” Makoto sighs. “Half the time, he’s just upset or confused.”

“Upset, huh?” Sato hums. She shakes her head. “Well, I think the one who’s most upset here is you. You know a lot about Yamazaki-kun, don’t you? Don’t you think that, if he deserved you, he’d know that you’re sensitive? No offense, but you are.”

“I know,” Makoto says, but he smiles anyway.

“I mean, even I can pick that up, and I’m dumber than a sack of rocks,” Sato jokes. Makoto protests, but she quiets him with a wave of her hand. “The point is… you’ve invested time in getting to know him and seeing the good things in him, when he can’t even spare the time to be nice to you. I don’t care what happened, but getting in your face like that right outside of the classroom wasn’t the place to do it. Even if he was trying some, like, weird round-a-bout apology or something? You deserve privacy for that at the _very_ least.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

They’re silent the rest of the way to the coffee shop. Sure enough, it’s bustling with customers. The coffee shop is a quaint little place with dim lighting and a stage near the front of the shop for live music. Seating consists of big, cushy chairs. The decorations on the walls are mostly recycled artworks. The ceiling is actually made up of empty bags of coffee beans, and the entire place smells like coffee.

Sato orders two iced lattes (she insists on paying for Makoto’s) and takes Makoto into the back to sit down on a plush couch. Sato sits nice and snug beside him. Makoto appreciates her physical comforting methods and isn’t afraid to lean against her a little. She reminds him of Haru, almost. A bubbly, female Haru.

Makoto quickly notices that the people in this shop are a bit different from the usual crowd Makoto sees. A lot of them have quirky features that don’t really line up with Japan’s trends. There are girls with partially shaved heads, boys in effeminate clothing. Makoto sees a girl with a symbol on their shirt that Makoto doesn’t recognize.

“Sato-san, what’s that symbol on that person’s shirt?” Makoto asks, nodding towards them. Sato follows his gaze and smiles.

“That’s the symbol for transgender. It means she was an assigned male at birth, but identifies as female,” Sato says. “And actually, she’s one of my old classmates. I’m going to say hi, wanna come?”

“U-Um… I’m still a little nervous about meeting new--”

“That’s fine,” Sato says. “Just sit tight! I’ll be right back.”

Sato leaves and Makoto huddles in his seat with his backpack in his lap as he nervously sips at his coffee. He’s not used to seeing so many people of different sexual orientations and genders in one spot. Up until now, he had been under the impression that there was little to no diversity on this campus. However, this place is _packed_.

“Hey.”

Makoto snaps his head up to look at a middle-aged man who has approached him. He’s tall, with a bit of scruff on his chin and his brown hair pinned up with hot pink barrettes. He’s wearing a t-shirt that says ‘ _EQUALITY NOW_ ’ on the front. Flopping down on the sofa beside Makoto, the odd man grins at him.

“Here for Coming Out night?” he asks. Makoto can tell by his tone of voice that he’s asking much more than that. He’s asking if Makoto’s gay. A little overwhelmed, Makoto looks away. He can feel a cold sweat gathering on his back. However, the man next to him doesn’t pry any further and instead pats his arm. “First time, huh? Don’t be shy. Nobody here is gonna pick on you. What’s your name?”

“…T-Tachibana Makoto,” Makoto manages.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Honda Minori, but everyone just calls me Nori-chan,” Nori says. Makoto blinks. _Seaweed-chan?_ “I’m the coordinator for the LGBTQ services on campus. Are you a first year?”

Makoto nods, still a little scared. Nori just smiles gently at him.

“It’s always nice to see young, new faces.”

“Nori-chan!”

Nori looks up as Sato approaches, then holds out his hand for a high-five. She reciprocates and smiles widely.

“Nice to see you again, Fuyumi-kun. How are your classes going?”

“Great!” she says. “Well, as best as I can. Did you meet Tachibana-kun? He’s my classmate. And occasional study partner.”

She winks as Nori laughs. Makoto hugs his backpack in his lap and lets himself smile, too.

“Well, I better get things rolling,” Nori says. He looks at Makoto and gives him a reassuring pat before standing up. “Just relax and enjoy, okay?”

Sato takes his place and Makoto watches as he makes his way to the front of the crowd. Stepping onto the stage, Nori goes to the microphone and taps on it to get everyone to settle down.

“Hey everyone, welcome to Coming Out night 2014!” he says. He throws his arms out and everyone claps. “For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Honda Minori, coordinator of LGBTQ services here on campus. But most of you know me as Nori-chan.”

There’s laughter from the crowd. The atmosphere in the room makes Makoto feel safe. No one is harassing Nori for the way he presents himself, even though a man with gray streaks and pink barrettes in his hair is pretty out of the ordinary. Everyone here is unconditionally accepting.

“We’ve got live music, poetry, and story-telling tonight. And there are some new faces here as well, so let’s give them a hand for being here tonight!”

Nori claps and the rest of the crowd joins in. Beside Makoto, Sato claps as well. Blushing, Makoto sinks down into his seat a little more. However, his embarrassment is quick to pass. The entertainment begins with a girl who announces that she’s a lesbian before sitting down and playing her acoustic guitar. She sings about love and a relationship with another woman. Next is a boy with a violin who comes out as bisexual. There’s a transgender boy who sings a capella. There’s an asexual girl with a saxophone. Sato’s transgender friend reads a poem.

They keep coming. And coming. Makoto still doesn’t have any interest in coming out in public right now. Maybe not ever. But when he sees these brave young individuals onstage, he feels joy seeping into his heart. He isn’t alone here. It’s so beautiful, he could almost cry.

But he doesn’t cry, because he’s listening to the same asexual girl from before do stand-up comedy and he can’t stop laughing. He laughs until his side hurts, until he’s gripping onto Sato for dear life because he can’t breathe. It feels so good knowing that he really isn’t alone in this world, that there are tons and tons of smiling faces greeting him with open arms. It almost doesn’t feel real.

It’s over before Makoto wants it to be over. However, the music and laughter and poetry sticks with him, nestled in his heart. He never knew how alone he truly felt until he experienced this.

“Thank you for bringing me here, Sato-san,” Makoto says as they leave. It’s already dark outside; they’ve been there for over three hours. They start walking back to campus. When they get there, they cut through the campus courtyard. “I didn’t know how much I needed that.”

“Of course,” Sato says. She reaches out and takes Makoto’s hand. She squeezes it briefly before returning her hand to her side. “It was fun, wasn’t it?”

“Yes!” Makoto blurts. Sato giggles at him and nudges him with her elbow.

“Feel better about Yamazaki-kun?”

The thought of Sousuke brings Makoto crashing back down to earth. Sato apologizes profusely when Makoto gets a hurt look on his face and stops walking. She stops with him and they stand there in front of the fountain in the center of the courtyard.

“I don’t feel much better about that, really,” Makoto admits. “I appreciate your concern, Sato-san, but I don’t think the LGBTQ group can help me with this situation.”

Sato opens her mouth but shuts it again, looking crestfallen. It makes Makoto feel bad, so he reaches out to touch her shoulder.

“I guess I felt a little awkward. It was a fun time, of course! But still… kinda overwhelming,” Makoto explains. “I know you’re trying to help but… I think I feel more comfortable in the closet rather than out of it!”

“Really?” Sato asks. “I can’t imagine anyone who would, though.”

“I know it seems weird to you, but I’ve kinda just accepted it since I realized it a long, long time ago. My parents are supportive, and so are my friends. That’s really all that matters to me. I’ve never felt the need to shout it out at the world,” Makoto says. He smiles and looks up at the stars and the moon. “What those guys do in the LGBTQ group is amazing. It’s just… the only thing about being gay I struggle with is…”

Makoto trails off and doesn’t finish. Putting his hands in his pockets, he scuffs his shoe on the sidewalk. Taking a seat on the edge of the fountain, he kicks his feet.

“I struggle with loneliness,” Makoto says quietly. “I struggle with the fear of being abnormal.”

He looks down at the ground, eyes sad, as Sato sits next to him and puts a comforting hand on his thigh.

“Don’t misunderstand, Sato-san. I know that _I_ don’t think of myself as abnormal. I don’t want to be perceived as abnormal,” Makoto says. “My best friend Haru doesn’t care what other people perceive him as. I get jealous about that sometimes. I wish I didn’t care, either. But…”

Makoto’s frown deepens and he lifts a hand to his face, covering his eyes.

“I’m scared of a lot of things, but the thing I’m most terrified of is being rejected on the basis that I am not normal. I’ve suppressed so many emotions because of this. In high school, I was surrounded by many men who I would’ve been attracted to. I was a captain of a sports club, so I knew all of the other captains. But I never pursued any of it. I never let myself look longer than I had to. I had to remind myself that my lifestyle is not normal. I had to remind myself that any romance I pursued wouldn’t be normal. I’m not a girl,” Makoto says. He laughs but it’s humorless. “Despite my girly name, I’m not a girl and never will be.”

“Oh, Tachibana-kun,” Sato whispers beside him. Makoto sighs and leans back to look at the stars.

“It’s nice out here,” he says. Sato follows his gaze to the sky. Not breaking his eyes away from the twinkling lights overhead, Makoto smiles. “Sato-san, do you ever want kids someday?”

“…Yeah,” Sato says. Makoto hums.

“Me too,” he murmurs. He finally looks down, eyes going to his hands. “I love kids. I want to be a father more than anything. I want to get married and have a family. I want to teach my kids how to swim. I want to come home from work to the person I love one day, and they’ll greet me at the door and they’ll tell me… _he’ll_ tell me that he missed me.”

Makoto’s hands tighten into fists.

“But that will never happen,” Makoto says. “Because I can’t have kids biologically. I can’t adopt. I can’t get married. Not unless I go to another _country_. All because, in their eyes, I am an abnormality. That, Sato-san, is what I struggle with the most with being gay. I hate thinking about it. I hate thinking about it so much.”

He heaves a sigh and manages to bring the smile back to his face.

“…I’m sorry for complaining, Sato-san.”

 “Jeez, don’t _apologize_ ,” Sato says. Her voice breaks and Makoto turns his head sharply towards her as she lifts her hands to her face and rubs her eyes. She sniffles and wipes her tears, making Makoto panic.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry I made you sad!” he cries. He grabs Sato by the shoulders and shakes her a little. “Oh no, oh no, I got so carried away, I--”

“Tachibana-kun, it’s okay,” Sato interrupts. Without warning, she leans in and wraps her arms around his neck. Makoto hesitates to hug her back, afraid he’s going to break her or something. They sit there and hug for a long time. Sato pets his hair and it feels really, really nice. Sighing, Makoto shuts his eyes and lowers his face onto her shoulder. Once she’s composed, Sato pulls away and smiles. Makoto smiles back.

“I’ve never told anybody that,” Makoto says a bit bashfully. He watches a little beetle crawling on the ground next to his shoe, unable to take his eyes off of it. “Not even Haru.”

“I feel honored, then,” Sato laughs. “But honestly. You keep so many things locked away. You put on this happy front to please people, but you never care for yourself.”

“Ahaha… Sato-san, you sound like Haru.”

“Well it’s true! Please have more faith in yourself,” Sato says. “Because I have faith in you. And so does your friend, Haru. And your friends back in your hometown! And I know Yamazaki-kun has faith in you, too.”

Makoto blinks.

“Sousuke?”

“Yes. Tachibana-kun, you have never seen the way Yamazaki-kun looks at you when you’re not looking,” Sato says. She gets a dreamy look on her face. “Whenever you get frustrated because the notes are hard to understand, he watches you until you understand. Whenever you so much as click the top of your pen, he’s looking. Glancing. Peeking. Whatever you wanna call it. And that’s why I’m curious as to what exactly happened with him that could make all of that stop.”

“Well… we were in his room about to go over the notes from last week Wednesday. The physiology and cells unit was really hard, so Sousuke was pretty far behind. Well… before we began, he told me that he’s going to have to get surgery on his shoulder if he ever wants it to recover all the way. And… I don’t know what came over me, but I told him I wanted to see it and… well, I saw his shoulder and it looked awfully painful, so I started crying and, um. He kissed me.”

“ _Really?!_ ” Sato shrieks, grabbing Makoto’s shirt. Makoto laughs and puts his hands up in surrender.

“Y-Yes… but afterwards he said it was a mistake and that it was disgusting. He seemed really mad,” Makoto says. Sato hums and taps her chin.

“Do you really think he found it disgusting?”

“…I… well, I thought about that and I’m not sure,” Makoto says. “I mean, he was the one who initiated it.”

“Right. So maybe he’s just confused?” Sato asks. Makoto shrugs.

“I don’t know! I haven’t spoken to him since, as you know. I really don’t know how to approach this,” Makoto says. He frowns. “I’m scared. Because… because it was the exact thing I feared the most. I was rejected because I am another man.”

Makoto feels a chill course through him. Anxieties gnaw at his brain.

_He never wants to speak to you again._

_He’s disgusted._

_You’re not normal._

“I can’t face him,” Makoto says. His voice quivers as he says it. “I’m too terrified.”

“Then let it sit for a while. You don’t have to talk to him right this second. Think about what you’d say to him if you had the privacy to do so,” Sato suggests. “And when you’re ready, then you can talk to him. I mean, it’s obvious that there is some miscommunication, right? He tried to call you this morning and was upset you didn’t pick up. Either he thought it wasn’t a big deal, or he was desperately trying to return things back to normal. Either way, this has to be cleared up or you’ll regret it.”

“You’re right,” Makoto admits. He groans. “I really can’t talk to him right now, though.”

“Hehe,” Sato giggles. She pats Makoto’s knee. “Take your time.”

“Thank you, Sato-san.”

Sato blinks and her face splits open into a huge, cheeky grin.

“What are friends for?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friend [Diana](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	14. Chapter 14

Makoto spends the week assessing his feelings and thinking about what Sato told him. He spends most of this time to himself, either at the library or in his dorm. He doesn’t mooch off of Haru or Sato and instead utilizes the campus cafeteria for his meals. Initially, Sato shows concern that Makoto is withdrawing into himself, but he reassures her that he is okay.

This fight has to end. It’s stupid, and nothing that two grown men should be fighting over. Okay, perhaps it’s not so much a fight as it is a cold war. One of them has to crack eventually, and Makoto has a feeling it won’t be Sousuke. Makoto has done things like this before. On the rare occasions that he fights with people, it’s always him to take the blame. If it means a resolution can be found, he will take the blame every time. It doesn’t matter if it’s not his fault.

As long as Sousuke doesn’t hate him, it’ll be okay.

\---

There’s a knock at the door. It echoes unnaturally against the walls. Opening his eyes, Makoto peers around in the dim light of his bedroom. Everything is bathed in a deep red, and warmth radiates from the center of Makoto’s chest outwards. His limbs feel like they’ve been detached completely from the rest of his body and are floating away from him. Curling his fingers, Makoto tries to pull his limbs back to his body but can’t even begin to locate where his joints have been severed. He feels paralyzed, as if something is pinching his spinal cord, and it makes his heart race.

There’s another knock at the door, but this time it swings open. Makoto’s chest heaves as a presence enters his dorm and approaches his bed. He feels fingers carding through his hair, sweeping his bangs away from his overheating forehead and giving them a slight tug. He smells a man’s musk; chlorine and spice. Makoto’s limbs snap back to his body right then, but he doesn’t have time to move before he’s plunging into the abyss. Water envelops him as he falls into a pool and sinks straight to the bottom.

Foreign hands grab him, haul him out of the depths, and shove him up against the edge of the pool so they can bend him over the concrete lip. The pool is too deep here for his feet to touch the bottom, forcing his legs to uselessly dangle in the water as an unknown weight settles on his back and pins him there.

 “Ah…”

His soft voice echoes in the pool as a hand materializes on Makoto’s back and slowly begins to run down his spine. He doesn’t know why, but it feels as though he can see this scene take place through multiple perspectives. He can see himself bent over the edge of the pool from behind, he can seem himself from an underwater perspective, and from an overhead perspective. The hand on his back is severed, but as it continues to move downwards, it grows into a full arm, then half a torso, then the rest of its body.

It’s Sousuke. Makoto’s breathing immediately picks up and his hips shift upwards as Sousuke’s fingers run along the waistband of his jammers. He tries to say his name but his throat is in knots. Instead what comes out is a long, breathless moan that echoes in the huge room. Both of Sousuke’s hands are on the backs of Makoto’s thighs now, nails scratching lightly up and down his jammers and providing a very peculiar, muted sensation. Makoto can feel the heat through his swimsuit, which makes him gasp and squirm. Sousuke’s hands never touch his ass or between his legs, his fingers skirting along erogenous zones on Makoto’s body until he can’t stand another moment of it.

His jammers are tightening around him. They’re normally a comfortable fit, but now it feels as though they are constricting around every nook and cranny until they’re practically painted on. They keep shrinking and shrinking until Makoto can literally feel the seams pulling apart. The fabric begins to split in several places, and those splits grow wider and wider until his body rips through his jammers. Left naked, Makoto whimpers and finds the strength to turn his head around—

The scene changes. He’s in a double-sized bed with navy blue covers; Sousuke’s bed. Draped over his body are silk sheets that feel heavy on his body. There is a pair of hands sneaking around from behind him, running along his sides and curling up to the front so they can caress his chest. Makoto writhes in anticipation, leaning back against the body that has appeared behind him. The man behind him doesn’t have a face until he touches Makoto a certain way. Now it’s Sousuke’s face, buried in the crook between Makoto’s neck and his shoulder.

Makoto closes his eyes and basks in the pleasure for a moment. When he opens his eyes again, he’s on his knees with his chest and head resting on the bed. Sousuke’s pinching his way up his calves, his thighs, and finally comes to rest at his ass. He strokes the left cheek through the silk cloth. He moves to the right. His fingers dip in between, pressing the smooth fabric up against his asshole and—

His orgasm is so powerful it jars him out of sleep. The dreamscape fades into complete darkness, and all that is left is Makoto’s delirious moans as his hips twitch and buck. His orgasm is much more intense than when he does it consciously. He rides out every moment of it before collapsing in the wet patch of his bed.

This has been the nature of most of his dreams for the past week. It’s not every single night, and this time was actually the first time it has escalated sexually to the point of actually cumming. Still breathing hard, Makoto shakily sits up and rubs the sleepiness out of his eyes. His boxer-briefs are an absolute mess. The bedsheets have sweat marks on them.

This is the worst.

Makoto stands, legs shaking, and goes to his dresser. On the top is a tissue box. Makoto hooks his thumbs in the waistband of his underwear and pulls it off. He’s still sensitive and gasps as he maneuvers the snug waistband around his now-flagging erection. Sure enough, there’s a sticky mess in his boxer-briefs. Makoto takes care of it with a few tissues, and then tosses the soiled underwear into his laundry hamper. He takes his shirt off after that. There’s no point in wearing anything if he’s just going to be hot.

Naked, Makoto pads back to his bed and sits down on the edge. This has to end. Back when he had nightmares as a child, his mother would tell him that telling someone about his dreams would make them stop. Makoto can't take this anymore. He has to tell someone to make these dreams cease.

Makoto feels around his bed for his phone and finds it stuck in his pillowcase. First, he checks the time. It’s a little bit past three in the morning, on a Monday. Tomorrow he’ll have class with Sousuke. Taking a deep breath, Makoto goes to his contacts list and scrolls through. Initially, his thumb hovers above Haru’s number. Normally, Haru would be who he would go to first.

However, he finds himself continuing to scroll down, down, down, all the way down until he gets to the very end of his list.

_Yamazaki Sousuke._

He selects the contact and stares for a long time at the picture he has set for him. Despite everything that has happened, Sousuke is still mind-numbingly beautiful. Makoto can feel his temperature rising already just by looking at that picture. It’s such a rare view into Sousuke’s true self when all of his anxieties are stripped away, Makoto can’t look away.

Worrying his lip between his teeth, Makoto hovers his thumb over the green ‘CALL’ button. Sousuke has anxieties, too. Just like Makoto hates feeling alienated by his sexual orientation, Sousuke hates feeling alienated because of his shoulder. Makoto feels guilty for giving him one more thing to be anxious about.

Makoto touches the button and brings the phone to his ear. If Sousuke doesn’t pick up, he’ll give it up. He’ll wait another week until he can build up the courage to do this again. He has to say something, anything.

“ _What?_ ”

His voice is gravelly and low. The moment his voice hits his ear, Makoto can’t help the sigh that escapes him.

_“It’s three in the fucking morning. What do you want?”_

“I need to talk to you,” Makoto says. His voice is small, unsure. He hears Sousuke heave a huge, dramatic sigh on the other line.

_“Whatever. Can’t you save it until class tomorrow?”_

“No. I can’t,” Makoto says. He makes his voice as firm as he can but it still trembles. “I want to talk to you right now. In person.”

_“I told you--”_

“Please!” Makoto gasps. It comes out in a breathless whisper. Makoto cradles the phone in both hands. “Please, Sousuke. Please.”

_“…God. Fine. Meet me at the park down the street from your dorm.”_

Sousuke hangs up before Makoto can say anything more.

What on earth is he doing?

Makoto doesn’t really know what he wants to say. Well… no. He knows what he wants to say, just not how he’s going to go about saying it. He has thought about this all week per Sato’s suggestion, but most of his thoughts are just a muddled pile in the back of his brain. But he has to say something. He can’t just let things end like this.

“Right,” Makoto says to himself. With renewed determination, he puts some clothes on. He’s feeling a little gross because not a half hour ago he was writhing in a cold sweat while cumming in his underwear, but he slaps on some deodorant and fresh clothes and eliminates the smell of sweat from his body. Just before he walks out the door, however, his phone vibrates. It’s a text from Sousuke.

_[Grab a jacket. It’s cold.]_

\---

Makoto looks up from his phone when headlights shine on him. A black Toyota Allion pulls into an empty parking space and Makoto tenses. The park is about the size of a city block. There’s a stone pathway that winds through a smattering of trees and up to the top of a small hill, where there is a gazebo. Makoto is near the tiny gravel parking lot, sitting on the top of a picnic table with his feet up on the bench. He squints against the headlights shining in his eyes before the engine is cut. The world goes dim and silent again. The only light source is from the park lamps lined on either side of the stone path, but the shadow of a tree prevents Makoto from seeing Sousuke right away.

He hears the twirling of keys as Sousuke steps out of the shadows. He’s in sweatpants and a zip-up hoodie. His hair is a mess, but that doesn’t make him any less intimidating. Heartbeat fluttering, Makoto slips off of the picnic table and stands. Sousuke stops at an uncomfortable distance away from Makoto. His eyes are so cold and distant. Not angry. Not happy. Nothing.

“Sousuke, I--”

“Gas is expensive,” Sousuke interrupts, his voice a low growl. “So this better be good.”

Makoto swallows and fidgets. He looks down at his phone for a moment before putting it in his jacket pocket.

“Um… thank you for telling me to bring a jacket,” he says. He laughs nervously but Sousuke doesn’t react, silently watching him. Makoto clears his throat. “I wanted to talk about what happened.”

“Oh, I thought maybe this was going to be about anatomy and our bullshit cells unit,” Sousuke drawls sarcastically. He rolls his eyes. “Just spit it out.”

“I wanted to apologize!” Makoto exclaims. Sousuke blinks and for a moment the malice in his expression is gone. It returns right away in the form of a scowl, but Makoto presses on. “I wanted to apologize for what happened, for kissing you… for… disgusting you.”

“Wait just a god damn minute,” Sousuke says. He laughs incredulously. “ _You’re_ the one apologizing?”

“Well, I…” Makoto trails off. “I can’t stand it anymore. I can’t stand it that I can’t talk to you anymore. I want our fight to be over, so I’m apologizing. I’ll take all of the blame.”

Sousuke stares at him for a long time before he clicks his tongue and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Your unconditional kindness is so fucking annoying. Is this some sort of joke?”

“No,” Makoto says. He bites his lower lip. “I want to be friends again. I miss you.”

“Ha, you make it sound like you’re in love with me,” Sousuke scoffs. Makoto doesn’t say anything. Sousuke, seeming to realize that he struck something, looks off to the side and takes sudden interest in a tree branch. “…Hey, Makoto.”

“Yes?”

“Nanase… is he your boyfriend?” Sousuke asks. He turns his head towards Makoto again and his face is completely serious. Makoto’s lips part.

“N-No. He’s not,” Makoto says carefully. Sousuke nods and looks away again. “Why do you ask?”

“You wore the same clothes you wore on that Sunday afternoon on Monday afternoon. And I put two and two together. You were at Nanase’s house overnight, I thought--”

“Not at all,” Makoto denies. “It has never been that way between us.”

“I see,” Sousuke says. “Do you have a boyfriend at all?”

“No.”

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No.”

“Are you straight?”

“…No,” Makoto manages. Sousuke visibly tenses and blood roars in Makoto’s ears. This is the moment he declares his disgust for Makoto and his lifestyle and walks right out of his life for good. He knows it.

“How did you decide?” Sousuke asks. He’s acting strangely, shuffling back and forth on his feet. Makoto tilts his head.

“Eh? Decide? I never decided,” he says. “It has always been a part of me.”

Sousuke pinches his lips together and is quiet for a good long while. He looks like he’s deep in thought, but then shakes his head.

“But back to what I was saying before,” Sousuke begins. Makoto’s eyebrows rise. No yelling? No screaming, hitting, or punching? Sousuke doesn’t look any angrier than he did before. He looks frustrated, but Makoto can tell it’s not aimed at him. “Why are you apologizing? I’m pretty sure we both know that I was the one who kissed you.”

“I know that, but I didn’t want to ignore you anymore,” Makoto says. He pauses before saying the next part. “I didn’t want _you_ to ignore _me_ anymore. I thought about it all week, and I’ve decided it would be okay to forget it ever happened.”

“You say that, but is it really okay?” Sousuke asks, skeptical. “Quit trying to bury stuff and then smile about it. Be aggressive. Tell me I’m a fucking asshole, get in my face. Punch me if you have to, because _I’m_ the one who fucked up here, not you!”

He ends in a shout that has Makoto cringing. Sousuke quiets down again and gives Makoto a sour look.

“So wipe that damn smile off your face and tell me how you really feel.”

Makoto’s mouth opens and closes. He shifts, uncomfortable under the weight of Sousuke’s stare.

“It hurt,” he says slowly. “It hurt when you told me it was disgusting.”

“Go on.”

“It felt like you were calling _me_ disgusting,” Makoto continues. He tears his gaze away from Sousuke. “You made me feel like my entire lifestyle is abnormal and detestable. I cried.”

“I figured. That’s why I called you after I realized that I struck a sensitive chord,” Sousuke says. Makoto swallows.

“I was angry because you were the one who kissed me, yet acted like I was the one who kissed you,” Makoto says. Sousuke nods.

“Understandable. I’m sorry for making you upset.”

“But why would you say those things?” Makoto asks. Sousuke shrugs.

“I was confused. That’s no excuse, but that’s the way it is. I needed to be alone. I’m not like you, who handles confusion by running off to Nanase. I can’t just run off to Rin,” Sousuke explains. “It was irrational and wrong for me to kick you out without explanation. I wasn’t disgusted, I was shocked that I did something like that. I don’t think your lifestyle is disgusting at all. Still, it was unfair to you, and I think it’s because of something more besides your sexuality.”

Their gazes meet. Sousuke’s eyebrows are knitted together and Makoto can’t tell what his expression means.

“What do you mean?” Makoto asks.

“What are your feelings towards me?”

Makoto’s blood freezes. He hadn’t counted on this question at all. He sits there flapping his mouth like a fish, but Sousuke continues to stare at him expectantly.

“Well?”

“That is…” Makoto whispers. He fidgets. Never in his life has he confessed to someone before. Not when he had a short crush on Rei, not when he had a short crush on Haru. Usually by this point, Haru backs down and doesn’t ask him any more pressing questions. But Sousuke… Sousuke doesn’t allow him to back out. His eyes pin him down and deny him an escape.

Sousuke takes a step forward and Makoto freezes under his scrutiny. He takes another step forward, and another. Startled, Makoto stumbles backwards slightly. The backs of his knees hit the picnic table bench and he flops down onto it. Sousuke stops in front of Makoto and leans in, putting both hands firmly on the picnic table on either side of him.

“Tell me,” Sousuke says. He looms over Makoto and stares directly at him, unblinking.

“I don’t have anything to t-tell you,” Makoto stutters.

“L-i-aaaar,” Sousuke hums. Makoto flushes and Sousuke leans in closer, forcing him to push back against the picnic table behind him. The wood digs painfully into his back, but Sousuke doesn’t budge. “Be aggressive.”

“Impossible,” Makoto laughs nervously. His blush is so intense that it feels like his face is melting off of his skull. He looks away from Sousuke’s face, unable to hold the weight of his eyes. “I can’t--”

“Tell me.”

This time his voice is right in his ear, his breath so close that Makoto can feel the warmth of it fanning over his neck and earlobe. He jumps almost violently, letting out an involuntary sound from the back of his throat.

“Ugh…” Makoto groans. He puts his hand over his eyes. “I… I l-like… I like you. I can’t get you out of my head. I can’t… I have dreams about you.”

It spills out of his lips uncontrollably like a dam that has been broken, gushing forth in a mess of emotion. Makoto has never been so humiliated in his life. Sousuke pulls away from him abruptly and Makoto looks up just in time to catch the flush in his cheeks and neck. It’s hard to see it in the dark, but if Sousuke’s body language is anything to go by, he’s incredibly embarrassed.

“Wow. That was a lot more than I expected,” Sousuke says. There’s a laugh in his voice that is threatening to be teasing but it sounds more nervous than anything. “You dream about me, huh?”

“P-Please shut up!” Makoto whines. He slaps his hands over his face.

“Why, though? And how long?” Sousuke asks.

“I don’t know. And… I don’t know. I noticed you from the very beginning, and I just… you are attractive to me,” Makoto explains. He doesn’t remove his hands.

“Attractive, huh?” Sousuke muses. “Huh.”

“Th-Then what about you?” Makoto fires back. He peeks through his fingers, shaking and unable to look Sousuke in the eye. “What exactly made you kiss _me?”_

“I told you I didn’t know!” Sousuke snaps. He runs a hand through his hair, mussing it up even more. “Ah, jeez. You looked cute for a second, I guess? Your lips looked soft.”

“ _Oh my god_ … _!_ ” Makoto wails into his hands.

“Well, that’s what I thought at the time!” Sousuke exclaims. “It’s not my fault, _you’re_ the pretty one here!”

“ _Pretty?!”_

“Oh, for the love of god,” Sousuke groans. “Just… let’s just leave it at that, okay? I apologize for stomping on your feelings. Yes, I want things to go back to normal. Can I just go home and _sleep_ now?”

“Wait!” Makoto gasps. He gets to his feet and fidgets. “Wait just a second. You didn’t tell me about how you feel about me.”

Sousuke’s lips press together and Makoto can hear him grinding his teeth. Thinking it was too much to ask him, Makoto lifts his hands in surrender and smiles.

“W-Well you don’t have to answer that--”

“I don’t know,” Sousuke says. “This is the first time I’ve ever had a problem like this. Or… questioned anything about myself, to be honest.”

“If it’s disgusting for you, I won’t try anything. I’ll keep it to myself,” Makoto blurts. Sousuke just looks at him. “I’ll let it go and it’ll fade over time, I promise. It’s okay as long as we’re friends, so…”

Sousuke sighs.

“Has anyone told you that you’re a horrible liar?” he asks. He comes forward and Makoto would’ve toppled over again if not for Sousuke reaching out and hooking his hand on his neck. He pulls Makoto close to him, pressing his face against his left shoulder and keeping him there. It’s a tad awkward since he’s not much taller, but Makoto relishes it anyway. “I like it better when you’re just unconditionally nice, not this scared mess you are right now. Are you like this often?”

“I’ve never been this scared in my life,” Makoto admits. His voice is muffled by Sousuke’s jacket. “I don’t talk about my feelings a lot.”

Sousuke chuckles, the vibrations coursing through Makoto and sending shivers up his body.

“I see. I don’t talk about my feelings much, either,” Sousuke says. His hand slides down from Makoto’s neck and instead settles on his back right between his shoulders. It’s just a one-armed hug but Makoto feels borderline euphoric. He wraps his arms around Sousuke’s waist and enjoys the warmth he emits. Their heartbeats can be felt through their jackets, and Makoto can feel Sousuke very faintly shaking. When Sousuke starts to shift like he’s going to let go, Makoto holds fast and squeezes his eyes shut.

“Wait. Please,” Makoto says. “Just a little longer?”

“…Shit. Has anyone ever tried to say no to you? Do they just combust if they do? And besides, you act like this is the last time.”

“It isn’t?” Makoto asks. He lifts his head and their noses almost touch. Sousuke swallows and rolls his eyes, keeping his gaze trained upwards.

“I didn’t say that,” he huffs. For a split second, he reminds Makoto of Haru. Unable to help himself, Makoto starts giggling. “Oi. Stop laughing at me.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Makoto apologizes, still smiling. Sousuke sighs and the hand on his back reaches up to very briefly stroke his hair.

“You need to have more confidence in yourself,” he says. “Don’t… crush your own potential before you even try.”

Makoto blinks and, while he’s distracted, Sousuke pulls away from him. The heat leaves Makoto and he’s left feeling empty and sad. Sousuke has turned away from him, shoulders hunched and his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Rin said that to me once. I think they’re good words to live by,” he says. He doesn’t turn around. Lifting his hand in a wave, he begins making his way back to his car. “See ya.”

He gets in his car and leaves. Makoto stands there for a long time before his knees buckle. Flopping back on the picnic bench, he releases the breath he had been holding. There’s so much to process. So much to categorize, so many feelings to assess and analyze.

But Sousuke doesn’t hate him.

“Thank god,” Makoto whispers, misty-eyed. “Thank _god_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friend [Diana](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ever find out someone likes you and you start noticing every little thing they do? yeah

Makoto awakens to an insistent pounding that jars him out of sleep much too early. Moaning, he rolls over in bed and hugs his pillow.

“I don’t need housekeeping,” he calls deliriously.

“Tachibana, if you don’t open your door in five seconds, I’m going to break it down.”

Makoto’s eyes flutter open at the sound of Sousuke’s muffled voice. Wait, what? Weren’t they fighting or something? No… things were patched up literally about three hours ago. It’s seven in the morning. This guy actually wants to hang out so soon after things have been (more or less) resolved? What a weirdo.

“Honestly, _Sousuke_ ,” Makoto growls, rolling out of bed and stomping to his door. He pulls it open and there’s Sousuke. He’s got on a black tank-top with jeans, and two cups of coffee in hand. His hair is tousled just right. Makoto takes one look at him and a dazed smile spreads across his face. “Oh. _Hello_ , Sousuke.”

He tries leaning against the door casually and nearly falls over. Looking unimpressed, Sousuke stalks into Makoto’s room and flops down on his bed as usual.

“Hurry up and get changed. We’re already running late for aerobics. Just bring all your stuff with you, you can shower afterwards,” Sousuke says. Makoto closes the door and locks it. Shuffling to his dresser, he blinks blearily at it before pulling open a drawer.

“I think I’m going to take a nap,” Makoto announces to his folded underwear.

“You wouldn’t be so tired if you hadn’t called me crying last night!”

“I wasn’t _crying_ ,” Makoto protests halfheartedly. He pulls out a pair of boxer-briefs with cherries printed on them. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sousuke’s eyes lingering for just a moment on his underwear before he sharply turns away.

“Whatever. Just get dressed.”

“Hmmn,” Makoto hums. Eyes closed, he sways on his feet a little as he pulls his pajama shirt over his head and throws it to the floor. Next to come off are the basketball shorts, which he kicks to the side. He’s about to pull down his underwear when he realizes Sousuke’s still in the room. He looks over at him, but Sousuke’s got his eyes glued to his phone as he scrolls through a webpage. That only relaxes him slightly.

He pulls off his underwear and steps into a fresh pair as quickly as he can. The waistband snaps against his skin and he hisses. He can tell immediately that he has drawn attention to himself when he feels Sousuke’s eyes on him. It burns him up inside.

Praying Sousuke won’t make a comment, Makoto pulls on a pair of jeans. They fit much better now that he has filled them out again. They rest nicely on his hips and ride a little low in the front. He can still feel Sousuke’s eyes on him even though Makoto can see from the corner of his eye that Sousuke hasn’t even turned his head. When Makoto looks over at him, Sousuke’s eyes snap back to his phone and he takes a casual sip of coffee.

Makoto wonders if Sousuke is staring because he lost muscle mass again. Looking down at his body, he inspects himself. His abs don’t look any less trim than usual. Now that he and Sousuke are back on speaking terms, he hopes they’ll be going to the gym regularly again.

“You look good,” Sousuke suddenly comments from the bed. Makoto turns to look at him. He’s lounging now, head propped up on his hand. Even when Makoto blushes, Sousuke looks as nonchalant as ever. “You keep looking at yourself like you’re not sure.”

“Well…” Makoto says. He’s never really thought of himself as attractive. Average-looking, at best. Then again, he was always popular with the ladies back in high school. His flush deepens and he hugs himself to cover up his chest. “Thank you.”

“You don’t think you look good?”

“That’s not it,” Makoto says. He squirms, trying to turn from Sousuke without looking like a complete idiot. He hears Sousuke laugh lowly.

“I see.”

Makoto pulls on a shirt as fast as he can after that. It’s a t-shirt with an orca printed on the front. It’s comfortably snug around his torso.

“You look different when you’re not dressed in church boy clothes,” Sousuke remarks. As Makoto fastens his watch on his wrist, he glances over at Sousuke.

“What do you mean?”

“Well usually you’re all button-ups and sweater vests. But a t-shirt and jeans looks good on you, too.”

“…Sousuke, I don’t know if I can take any more compliments,” Makoto exhales loudly. He brings a shaking hand to his face and covers up the redness of his cheeks.

“You don’t like it?”

“No, not that. I’m… I’m not used to it. Are you saying those things because you know I like you?”

Sousuke frowns and rolls onto his back. Hands behind his head, he stares up at the ceiling.

“I don’t know. Maybe? You’re fun to tease.”

Makoto grimaces and sits in his desk chair so he can put on his sneakers without losing balance. He tosses his gym clothes, shoes, and jammers into his gym bag.

“Let’s go.”

\---

Aerobics is as dull as usual. Throughout all of the exercises, Makoto keeps yawning. Today they’re bending pool noodles over their heads, which is easy for Makoto but relatively challenging for Sousuke. His shoulder has improved a little, but it’s obvious that it’s still stiff.

Half the class starts on deep water aerobics, while the other unwilling half stays in the shallow end. Naturally, Makoto and Sousuke go to the deep end with the others (mostly consisting of younger students) and start doing exercises.

“How’s your shoulder?” Makoto asks. They’re doing backwards arm rolls to keep themselves afloat, instructed to keep their feet and legs still. Sousuke only uses his left arm.

“Numb,” he answers. “Feels like I’ve been sleeping on it wrong for hours.”

“You’re not concerned?”

“My shoulder is fifty shades of fucked up, Makoto, the doctors can’t really tell me anything new until I go under,” Sousuke says. They switch to leg kicks, and are instructed to find a partner to hold onto in order to keep balance. Holding each other’s elbows, Makoto and Sousuke kick their legs to keep them bobbing above the surface. This is incredibly easy for both of them. The rest of the swimmers kind of flounder around and laugh when they tip over from lack of balance.

“Have you decided whether or not to go through with the surgery?” Makoto asks. Sousuke gets a sour look on his face.

“Don’t remind me. I have enough on my plate as it is. My dad’s been breathing down my neck and Rin’s pissed off that I haven’t been regularly calling him,” Sousuke groans. Makoto smiles sympathetically.

“Haven’t you told him that you’re in university yet?” he asks. Sousuke shakes his head.

“I still don’t know how to approach him about the subject. I’ve made enough people cry in my lifetime,” he says dryly. “Do you want to do otter rolls first?”

“Sure.”

Small inflatable balls are passed out to every pair. While Sousuke treads water beside him, Makoto stretches out on his back and holds an inflatable ball against his chest. Taking a breath, he slowly rolls onto his side and forces the ball under him. The air resists his roll, but his arms and legs are strong enough to complete a rep. Sousuke spots him, keeping him in place with one hand hovering by his knee. Every time Makoto’s face surfaces, Sousuke talks.

“I’m starting to think that---maybe it would be best if I---tell him after my surgery.”

“So you _are_ planning on it?” Makoto asks, pausing his rolls. Sousuke’s hand rests on his thigh just above his knee. Makoto tries not to notice the heat of his hand. “Getting the surgery?”

“Do I have much of a choice?” Sousuke asks. Makoto hums.

“I suppose you’re right. So you’re going to tell Rin after the surgery so he pities you and doesn’t punch you?” Makoto prods. Sousuke smirks at him, reaches out to grab his nose, and dunks his head underwater. Makoto flails and surfaces again, gripping his inflatable ball to stay afloat.

“Since when did you get a smart mouth?” Sousuke asks, snatching the ball from Makoto and getting onto his back to start his otter rolls. “I don’t know if I like it.”

“Do you think I could’ve gone my whole life without teasing Haru even once?” Makoto asks. Sousuke laughs out loud before he rolls to the right and dunks his face underwater. When he comes back around, he’s grinning. “And I think your influence is rubbing off on me, too.”

“Is that so?” Sousuke asks. He winks and it’s so unlike him that it catches Makoto off guard. When he gets an embarrassed look on his face, Sousuke just laughs again and does another roll.

After aerobics, Makoto and Sousuke head to the locker room together. Usually after aerobics Sousuke is pretty frustrated and grumpy, but today he actually seems to be in a relatively good mood.

“I forgot how boring aerobics is without you around. This past week sucked. I left class early almost every time,” Sousuke says as he and Makoto open their lockers for their shower things.

“I’m glad I make the class tolerable for you,” Makoto says, a smile on his face. Sousuke just snorts. Once their things are gathered, they go to the showers together. There are a couple other men here; some naked and some with their swimsuits still on. Makoto picks a spot against the wall. As if he didn’t feel uncomfortable enough, Sousuke picks the shower right next to his and hangs his shower caddy on the hook. Tensing, Makoto turns on the water and begins to rinse off. Once most of the chlorine is rinsed away, he takes a breath and peels his jammers off. He hangs them on the hook in front of him. Moments later, Sousuke does the same.

Makoto has showered naked in front of people before, obviously. Back in high school, Nagisa was almost always naked for his after-swim showers. He liked getting thoroughly clean. Naturally, the other Iwatobi Swim Club members did the same--especially Rei, who found the strong smell of chlorine to be particularly un-beautiful.

Before he can catch himself, Makoto giggles softly. Sousuke glances at him, his left hand up in his soapy hair.

“What?” he asks. He sounds somewhat offended and Makoto wonders if Sousuke thinks he’s laughing at his limp right arm. Makoto shakes his head.

“I was thinking about Iwatobi,” he says truthfully. Sousuke grunts, disinterested but no longer offended. Makoto’s just beginning to get comfortable with showering beside Sousuke when he notices Sousuke glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. Makoto looks fully at him just in time to see Sousuke glance pointedly downwards, smirk, and start cracking up to himself.

Makoto promptly combusts.

“Wh-Wh-Wh-What?” he stutters. Sousuke gives him a shark-like grin, eyes dark.

“Payback. You looked at mine a while ago, so I looked at yours,” he says. He’s so casual about it that Makoto could faint. How can _anyone_ get away with being this bold and blunt?

“But that was an accident!” Makoto hisses, hoping he’s not drawing too much attention to himself. Sousuke rinses the soap suds off his body and shrugs. Shutting off the water, he grabs his towel from the hook and ruffles up his hair with it before wrapping it around his hips.

“If that’s what helps you sleep at night.”

_This guy!_

Makoto stews in his own embarrassment as Sousuke leaves. He takes back everything he has ever said about Sousuke. He’s not serious at all, he’s so mean and takes joy in teasing people and—

Makoto likes him so, so much.

Shutting off the water, Makoto wraps his towel around his hips, grabs his shower caddy and jammers, and heads back to the locker room. Sousuke already has his jeans on. He looks smug as he applies his deodorant and looks at Makoto.

“You know, I used to think you were a serious guy,” Makoto remarks while he dries his legs enough so that he can put his underwear and jeans back on.

“I am serious. I just tease people I’m close to,” Sousuke says. Makoto blinks.

“Close?” Makoto asks. Sousuke nods once and takes a swig of water from the water bottle he brought with him.

“Yeah,” he answers. “I would consider you a close friend. I’ll stop if you really hate it.”

Makoto looks away and tries to ignore the way he’s blushing yet again. At this point, he’s sure he has spent less time _not_ blushing in front of him.

“I don’t hate it,” Makoto mutters. Sousuke laughs softly behind him.

After dressing, the two of them go their separate ways. Sousuke usually hangs out in the library while Makoto’s in English, and then meets up with him later before their anatomy class. Today is no different, and it feels good to be back on a schedule with him. Makoto spends the whole class period in English being excited for anatomy. Sousuke’s going to sit next to him again. Sousuke’s going to talk to him again, and rely on his notes. He’s not going to look at him with a sour look on his face. The thought makes Makoto smile and squirm a little in his chair. English could not end soon enough.

He tries his best not to run out of the language and literature building, but he can’t help the bounce in his step. Sure enough, Sousuke is waiting on a bench when Makoto emerges from the stairwell onto the first floor.

“Hey!” Makoto greets a little breathlessly. Sousuke looks up at him and stands.

“Yo. Is Sato going to actually let me sit next to you today?” Sousuke asks as they head towards the science building.

“I think so. I may or may not have told her the entire story. She was the one who actually suggested that I talk to you about it,” Makoto laughs, a tad nervous.

“Is that so? That’ll explain why she’s been giving me the cold shoulder. You know, I don’t say this often, but that kind of stung,” Sousuke admits. Makoto looks at him, but Sousuke just continues to look ahead. “It was the first time since I came here that I felt like I didn’t have any friends. And it’s my own damn fault, I know, but… whatever. I’m just glad we got it worked out.”

When they get in the classroom, Sato has yet to arrive. Makoto leads Sousuke to their usual spot in the center of the third row and takes a seat. Sousuke sits to the left of him. For a moment, everything is right in the world. Sousuke is sitting closer to him today than usual, the armrests of their wheelie chairs almost touching.

“Tachibana-kun!” calls a familiar voice. Sousuke and Makoto turn at the same time, accidentally knocking their knees together.

“Ah, sorry,” Makoto says gently. He gently runs his fingertips across Sousuke’s knee as he de-tangles their legs. He looks up at Sato, who has taken her usual seat behind him.

“Oh? What’s this? Replacing me, Tachibana-kun?” Sato teases, winking. “It looks like you two made up.”

“Yes,” Makoto says. Sousuke just snorts, shoves his hands in his pockets, and leans way back in his chair. He moves his legs so the toe of his shoe is touching Makoto’s shoe. It’s such a subtle gesture that Makoto doesn’t even know if it’s on purpose.

“He woke me up at three in the morning last night,” Sousuke complains. “And then actually whined about waking up early this morning for aerobics.”

"I didn't think you'd be so eager to hang out again so soon afterwards," Makoto points out. Sousuke opens his mouth and closes it again, speechless.

"I wasn't _eager_. It was just dragging on for too long and I thought it'd be better if we just got back to normal," he mutters. He glances at Sato and Makoto, who are both giving him knowing looks. With an irritated expression on his face, he clicks his tongue and scratches roughly at the back of his head. "Maaan, what did I do to deserve this scrutiny?"

“Serves you right!” Sato scolds. She shakes her finger at Sousuke and he gives her a petulant look. “You were being so mean to Tachibana-kun.”

“I didn’t sign a contract when I was born that said I have to be nice to everyone all the time.”

“Little brat!” Sato growls. She lunges across the table and grabs Sousuke’s hair. She gives him a noogie, knotting her fingers in his hair when he tries to get away.

“ _Oi!”_

Makoto laughs at their interaction. He finally steps in when they start attracting attention. He grabs Sato’s wrist and gently squeezes until she releases Sousuke. Sato just laughs while Sousuke scowls and smoothes down his messy hair.

“Are you guys dating, then?” Sato asks, putting her chin in her palms. Makoto lights up like a Christmas tree. He promptly drops his head to the table, hiding his face with his arms.

“ _Sato-san!_ ” he wails, muffled.

“I’m just asking!”

“We’re not dating,” Makoto sighs, straightening in his seat and turning to look at Sato again. Beside him, Sousuke is silent. “Um… actually I don’t know where we stand right now.”

“It’s up in the air,” Sousuke says with a shrug. Makoto’s mouth falls open. “What? I’m pretty sure we established that last night. I don’t know where I stand. I know you like me, that’s the only thing I’m sure of. I’m taking things in stride, I guess.”

He shrugs and Makoto is once again floored by how nonchalant this man can be. He presses his lips tightly together and looks to Sato for answers. He knows full well that she doesn’t have a single damn answer for him, not one little answer, but he looks at her anyway. All she gives him is a nice, big smile.

“Good job, Tachibana-kun,” she says quietly. Burning, Makoto nods once and turns back to face his own table. The professor starts her lecture. However, Sousuke is still digging around in his bookbag for something, frustration written all over his face. Makoto takes one look at his empty notebook page and knows what’s wrong. He grabs his backpack and fishes an extra pen out of it, which he silently slides over to Sousuke. Sousuke’s rummaging stops and Makoto hears a very faint snort beside him.

He takes the pen and, as he does, he brushes very, very softly over Makoto’s fingers. Makoto’s fingers curl and he squirms in his chair. As he does this, Sousuke scribbles something on the bottom of his notebook and slides it over for Makoto to see.

_You’re an idiot._

Makoto pouts and writes a response right under Sousuke’s note.

 _Stop teasing me so much!!! :(_ _  
_

Sousuke laughs under his breath when he reads the response. He pauses to write down some notes from the professor’s PowerPoint presentation, then returns to his and Makoto’s little note chain at the bottom.

_Your ears are red._

Makoto slaps his hand over his left ear, hiding it from Sousuke’s view. Sure enough, it’s hot to the touch. He quickly jots down a response.

_You’re mean!!_

Sousuke looks at the note and grins. After that, they stop passing notes for a while so they can get caught up on actual class notes. Makoto missed a couple slides of the PowerPoint but he’s not about to complain when he’s getting so much attention from Sousuke. About ten minutes later, Sousuke slides his notebook towards Makoto. There are no new messages, but an amendment has been made to the very first thing he wrote.

_You’re ~~an idiot~~ cute._

Makoto is relatively sure his heart is going to stop beating when he sees it. The look on his face must’ve been a good one, because now Sousuke’s blushing too and he’s got his hand over his mouth. They look away from each other, both heads spinning and both hearts pounding.

Meanwhile, behind them, Sato snaps a picture with her phone, pulls up her text app, and sends the picture to both Sousuke and Makoto. She adds a caption.

_[Newlyweds!!!! <333]_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friend [Diana](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT ***
> 
> Hey everyone! I just wanted to take this opportunity to tell you that there will be no FEFSKY updates after today until at least Friday. I have quite a busy week this week (including a big paper plus a midterm exam that I must study for) and cannot dedicate much time to much else. As you all know, I update very, very fast. I pour hours and hours daily into my work, and it has become my after-class job! I am almost constantly typing, and usually sit in the library anywhere from 4-5 hours a day just typing and typing and typing. Obviously I have school work I need to focus on, and unfortunately this difficult midterm exam is something I have to use all of my energy studying for. Regular updates will continue on Friday, October 17. Thank you so much for your patience and understanding! (Now to take a bit of a mental breather! Phew!)

“I have a date set for my surgery.”

Makoto looks up from his notebook and over to Sousuke, who is lounging on his bed with one leg crossed over the other. Outside, a thunderstorm rages and rattles the windows every time thunder roars. It’s been raining a lot lately as Japan transitions into its stormy season.

It has been about a week and a half since they made up from their small fight. There hasn’t been much progression in their relationship since then, but Makoto does spend most of the weekdays with him. He has a feeling Haru knows and is just silently disapproving it, but he doesn’t bring it up when he spends time with Haru on the weekends.

They’re currently in Sousuke’s apartment. They had been studying, but about an hour into it, Sousuke demanded a break and hasn’t gotten back to it since. Instead, he’s brooding in his bed and messing around with his phone. Makoto thinks he’s playing something, because he keeps swearing and jerking his phone.

“That’s good,” Makoto says amicably. He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling behind his glasses. Sousuke looks at him for a moment and returns his attention to his phone. “What’s the date, then?”

“June twenty-five.”

“That’s coming up quick,” Makoto says. He checks his wrist watch. It’s June tenth already. Fifteen days from now. “Are you nervous?”

Sousuke sighs through his nose and sits up.

“No. I just hate the doctor.”

“But the doctor is going to do everything to heal you!” Makoto giggles. Sousuke doesn’t laugh.

“Obviously. That doesn’t make it suck any less. Medicine will heal you but it doesn’t taste any less bitter when it goes down,” Sousuke says. Makoto hums and gives Sousuke a teasing smile that has him glowering. “Wipe that shitty grin off your face.”

Makoto hauls himself to his feet and wobbles a little. He’s been sitting for too long. He goes to Sousuke’s bed and sits down next to him, hands planted on the mattress as he leans in towards Sousuke.

“What?”

“You’re sure you’re not scared of the doctor?” Makoto asks. Sousuke rolls his eyes.

“I’m not _scared_. Who _likes_ the doctor?” Sousuke asks. “It’s not exactly a walk through the park, and that’s not even taking surgery into account. I even hate checkups.”

“Hmm…” Makoto hums. He flicks his gaze down to Sousuke’s lips and stares for a moment before bringing the focus back up to Sousuke’s eyes. This doesn’t go unnoticed. Smirking, Sousuke leans back on his hands and just gets an eyeful of Makoto.

“You’re even less discreet than usual,” he comments. Embarrassed, Makoto leans away from Sousuke and forces himself to sit still.

“I can’t help it,” Makoto says. He adjusts his glasses with shaky fingers.

 _I just want you so bad_ , is what he would say if he had even half of the courage that Sousuke has. And he does want Sousuke. He wants him more with every long, drawn-out moment he’s with him.

He doesn’t feel Sousuke’s presence right next to him until a sudden gust of air hits his ear. Makoto jumps and claps his hand over his ear while Sousuke just grins right next to him. They’re way too close. Heart throbbing against his ribcage, Makoto musters the strength to look at Sousuke’s face. His eyes are half-lidded and glazed like before; on that one day they kissed. Makoto puts his hands between his knees and squeezes his legs together, making his fingers go numb as he lets his eyes slide shut.

Lightning flashes and the thunder screams at the same time, rattling the entire apartment. Makoto yelps and his arms jerk. He had been pinching his hands between his legs so hard that, when he moves them up to reflexively cover his face, they snap out at an incredibly high velocity.

As fate would have it, he accidentally uppercuts Sousuke’s jaw just as the lights go out. All he can hear in the darkness is Sousuke falling backwards and letting out a string of curses.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Makoto yelps. He falls forward, searching for Sousuke with his hands. Lightning flashes and he gets a brief glimpse of Sousuke huddled up by the corner, holding his chin. Makoto crawls to him, reaching out with his hands. He feels Sousuke’s chest, then his neck, and his face. “Are you okay?”

“Damn, Makoto, all that weightlifting is _really_ paying off,” Sousuke comments. His voice is strained. Makoto pouts in the darkness, wishing he could see the damage.

“But are you okay?” he repeats. His fingers trail down Sousuke’s cheek to where his hand is clamped over his jaw. He touches his fingertips to the back of Sousuke’s hand.

“I’m fine. But now my shoulder _and_ my jaw is busted,” Sousuke teases. Makoto lets his hand drop and groans. “I’m kidding. I’m really okay. Are you scared of thunder?”

“No, I _love_ thunderstorms. But I wasn’t expecting that loud of a crash, especially when… when we were about to…”

“Don’t say it,” Sousuke says. He sounds embarrassed. Sure enough, when the lightning flashes again, Makoto can see the flustered look on his face. “At any rate, the power is probably going to be out for a while. The landlord knows we have a shitty electrical hookup but he won’t do anything about it. Says it’s too expensive to deal with.”

The room is partially illuminated when Sousuke unlocks his phone and pulls up a flashlight app. Phone in hand, he climbs out of bed and goes to the light switch. He turns it off so it doesn’t snap back on when the power comes back.

“Hey, have anything going on tomorrow?” Sousuke asks. He turns to face Makoto, shining the flashlight at him. Makoto squints against the light.

“I’m probably going to go to Haru’s house as usual, but it won’t be until later in the day,” Makoto says. That’s right, it’s already the weekend. He usually doesn’t spend much time with Sousuke on the weekends. Even though it’s only three days apart, Makoto still feels sad thinking about it. “Why do you ask?”

“How about you stay here tonight?” Sousuke asks. “I don’t have a futon, but the bed is big enough. Unless that’s weird for you. I could sleep on the couch in the living room and you could have the bed instead. Wait… that _is_ really weird. Forget I said anything. Shit.”

Sousuke comes to the bed and sits on the edge. He turns off his phone and the room is cast into darkness once more. All Makoto can hear is the rain pattering against the window and the distant rumbling of thunder.

“It’s not weird,” Makoto mumbles. He hopes he didn’t say it too soon. Sousuke just laughs.

“I had a feeling you’d say that,” he says. “Yeah, I don’t even want to walk out to my car in this weather. I can’t stand the rain.”

“I like the rain,” Makoto contradicts.

“Oh? Then if you like it so much, why don’t you just walk to the station and get drenched? Tell me how that goes,” Sousuke bites back.

“I don’t like the rain _that_ much!” Makoto protests. He hears Sousuke laugh, then feels him shift on the bed.

“I was kidding. Do you want pajamas? I’m sure my stuff will fit you.”

“Okay,” Makoto agrees. He feels his heart beat a little harder when Sousuke stands from the bed. The flashlight app is opened again, illuminating his way to his dresser. Makoto watches as he pulls it open and digs through it. He’s taking an unnecessarily long time.

“How cold do you get at night?” he asks, glancing over his shoulder.

“Umm… I get a little cold,” Makoto answers, slightly confused by the question. Sousuke grunts and turns back to his open dresser drawer. He gathers a few things, then tosses them at the bed. They nearly fall between the bed and the wall, but Makoto grabs them just in time.

Sousuke is already getting changed. He has placed his phone on top of the dresser, giving himself light to change. Makoto mimics him and gets out of bed so he can undress. Curious to see what Sousuke picked out for him, he takes off his glasses and grabs the pajama bottoms he was given.

They’re athletic shorts. Not just any athletic shorts, either. They’re spandex, designed to hug the legs and butt. Makoto grits his teeth, tempted to throw them at the back of Sousuke’s head.

“Heh,” Sousuke snickers. Makoto looks over his shoulder and Sousuke quickly turns his head away. Makoto can still see the grin in the profile of his face.

“What’s with this?” Makoto asks. The smile on his face doesn’t match up with his furrowed eyebrows and the bulging vein in his neck. He lifts the spandex shorts. “Is this a joke?”

Sousuke laughs out loud, shoulders shaking as he slips a t-shirt over his head.

“I want to see you in them,” he says. He isn’t even trying to play innocent. “Just do it. If you feel that strongly about it, we can throw down for it.”

“Throw down?” Makoto echoes. When Sousuke’s finished changing into a tank top and basketball shorts, he grabs his phone and walks to Makoto. Setting his phone on the bed, he lifts his hands and gets into a ridiculous battle stance. Makoto frowns. “…What are you doing?”

“Rock-paper-scissors, idiot,” Sousuke says. “C’mon, do it.”

Makoto hesitantly mimics him, lifting his hands. Sousuke grins and Makoto immediately feels like he already lost.

“Rock, paper, scissors… shoot!”

Makoto draws paper. Sousuke draws scissors. He straightens and gestures for Makoto to go on and change.

“I win. Put them on,” Sousuke says. Makoto hugs himself, thankful he’s still fully clothed.

“Th-That’s not fair!” he cries. Sousuke shrugs.

“There’s nothing unfair about it. I won fair and square. If it makes you feel any better, I lose to Rin almost every time.”

“Jeeeez, that doesn’t make me feel better at all,” Makoto whines. He accepts his defeat, unbuckles his belt, and unzips his pants. However, he stops when he realizes Sousuke hasn’t turned around. “…Can you at least turn around?”

Sousuke tenses and abruptly turns, arms crossed over his chest.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry.”

Makoto quickly pulls on the spandex shorts. They hug his hips tightly. They’re a lot like his jammers, actually, and are surprisingly comfy. Unfortunately, they’re a lot closer to speedos than full-legged jammers. The top Sousuke chose for him is a long-sleeved, button-up flannel. It’s dark teal in color and quite big on him.

“Okay,” Makoto says, tugging the flannel down. They cover his spandex shorts. Sousuke turns, smirk on his face. The moment he sees Makoto, that smile fades. It quickly turns into a grimace.

“…It looks like you aren’t even wearing pants,” he remarks.

“And whose fault is _that?!_ ” Makoto snaps. Sousuke pinches his lips together.

“I thought you’d look funny,” he says. “…But…”

“What kind of excuse is that?” Makoto asks. He sighs. “…Oh, whatever.”

He flops down onto the bed and Sousuke follows. Silence. There’s an unexplainable tension in the air and it’s all coming from Sousuke. When Makoto looks over, Sousuke has his hand over his mouth and is looking hard down at the floor.

“What is it?” Makoto asks. His irritation fades and is replaced by genuine concern. He starts to lean towards Sousuke, but is quickly stopped by a hand on his shoulder. Sousuke gently pushes him back.

“Maybe you shouldn’t wear that,” he says, muffled by his hand. Why shouldn’t he…? Something clicks in Makoto’s head and he feels his face burn. His eyes flick downwards at the front of Sousuke’s basketball shorts and away again.

“Oh,” he says. Withdrawing in on himself, Makoto puts his hands between his thighs and sits there in silence. The light on the phone suddenly goes out as the auto-lock feature activates. In the pitch black darkness, Makoto can hear Sousuke’s shaky exhale.

“Sorry,” Sousuke finally says. “I just needed a second. That… really caught me off guard.”

“It’s okay,” Makoto murmurs. “Do you still want me to change?”

“No, I’m fine.”

Makoto fidgets and bites his lower lip. He keeps taking breaths like he wants to say something, but quickly swallows it.

“Spit it out,” Sousuke says quietly. Makoto gulps.

“Have you gotten a chance to think about…?”

“Man, I was hoping you wouldn’t bring that up,” Sousuke sighs. Makoto feels him moving on the bed, but has no idea where he is. It fills him with a strange mixture of anxiety and anticipation. “I _have_ been thinking about it. I still don’t know. It’s only been a couple weeks, Makoto.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Sousuke huffs. “But just understand that this is new to me. Like… when I went home that night after we spoke, I was sure there was no way it’d work. But I kept thinking about how you liked me, so I kept looking at you. I… think it’s pretty damn obvious I’m attracted to you at the very least. It’s pointless and just stupid to deny it at this point.”

Makoto slaps his hands over his face. His heart is going a hundred miles an hour. He might just die.

“R-Really?” Makoto asks.

“Yeah,” Sousuke says. There’s hesitation in his voice. “It’s the boyfriend part I’m hung up on.”

Makoto lifts his head and turns towards Sousuke’s general direction. He wishes he could see his face, but Sousuke’s making it clear that he doesn’t want to be seen at all.

“I’ve always liked girls. Never really noticed other men. I don’t want a relationship if I don’t know exactly what I’m getting into. I know I’m attracted to you, but I don’t know if I’m attracted to men. Does that make sense? I mean, I’m not trying to make it sound like I see you as a woman. Shit, that’s exactly what it sounds like.”

“No, I know what you mean,” Makoto assures. Sousuke clicks his tongue.

“I don’t want to get into a relationship with you and realize halfway through that I just can’t… like you. Romantically, I mean,” Sousuke struggles to say. “God, this is embarrassing.”

“You’re attracted to me physically but not romantically?” Makoto suggests. Sousuke makes a strained sound and shifts on the bed again.

“…Yeah. Well, that’s not true. I don’t really know if what I feel is romantic. I know I still like women, but men… I’m not really sure if I know what that says about me.”

“It could mean a lot of things,” Makoto says, hoping he’s being reassuring. Sousuke groans.

“Great,” he says.

“Well, it could mean you’re bisexual, for example! Or pansexual.”

“What the fuck is pansexual?”

“When you’re… attracted to people regardless of their gender identity.”

“Isn’t that just bisexual?” Sousuke asks. Makoto squirms uncomfortably.

“Well, ‘bi’ means attraction to your own gender, plus other genders. Either two or more, depending on their preference. For a lot of people, that usually means both men and women. But it can also mean genders in-between. And then… ‘pan’ means anything and everything. So all genders,” Makoto explains, reciting what Sato taught him a couple days ago.

“…Okay,” Sousuke says after a long time. “That’s… still confusing, but okay.”

“That’s what Sato told me,” Makoto says. “She said it’s kind of hard to understand at first, but it’s still important to know.”

“I see,” Sousuke says. “Well… look, to answer your question, I _have_ been thinking about it. Being in a relationship with you. I’m just trying to be realistic here. I don’t know what you expected, but I can’t just dive right into a relationship.”

“I never expected that out of you,” Makoto laughs humorlessly. “Honestly, I never expected you to talk to me again after that night in the park.”

“…Makoto.”

He can’t see his face, but Sousuke’s voice sounds almost sad. It’s a long time before he speaks again.

“I wanted to talk to you during that week we didn’t speak at all. But when I called six times and you didn’t answer, and then later tried to talk to you with Sato trying to get me to leave, I thought I was unwelcome. I felt bitter. Self-loathing, too. My friendship with you is something I never wanted to fuck up, and I thought I had for sure. Then I felt resentful towards you and Sato. Towards myself. That week was very hard for me.”

“I’m sorry,” Makoto says. He doesn’t know what else to say.

“Quit apologizing. You didn’t do anything. I can be a real dick sometimes, but I know when to admit that I’m wrong,” Sousuke says. “Even if it takes… a whole week.”

He laughs at himself, takes a breath, and goes silent.

“…I couldn’t stand the thought of not speaking to you again,” Sousuke admits. His voice is so quiet that Makoto can barely hear him over the sound of the rain on the window. “I couldn’t tell if I was sad or pissed off. Probably both.”

“Oh.”

“I want to know if that’s how you felt too. I mean… you like me romantically, right?”

“Yes,” Makoto says in a sigh. Admitting it now still makes his chest burn, but at least he knows Sousuke won’t run away screaming or anything. He hears Sousuke inhale through his nose. He’s shifting on the bed again and Makoto feels his foot brush against his thigh. On one hand he’s glad he can’t see a damn thing, because that means Sousuke can’t see the anxious look on his face.

On the other hand, he has no idea where Sousuke is or what his face looks like right now.

“Can I ask why? Or… how? Don’t take that the wrong way. I’m just trying to understand what romantic attraction to a man actually is,” Sousuke says. “That sounds stupid, but I’m serious.”

“Um, well… I guess it just means that I don’t like you for just your body. It’s really not any different from liking a girl, except the obvious. I mean, you’re… you’re really attractive and all, I’m not denying that,” Makoto struggles to say. He feels dizzy and closes his eyes to compose himself. “But it’s more than that. I’ll hear your laugh or something and I can feel myself get really warm. My chest gets tight.”

“So you’re basically a shoujo character,” Sousuke deadpans. Makoto groans.

“No, it’s not like that. Love usually doesn’t make people unable to function. I mean… sometimes when I look at you it feels like I can’t breathe for a second, but I don’t lose my mind or anything,” Makoto explains. Sousuke is silent for a long time.

“Love?” is what he says when he finally speaks up. Makoto’s face just about catches fire.

“Like! I meant like. Romantically.”

“…Huh.”

“A- _Anyway_ ,” Makoto says firmly, not wanting Sousuke to tease him any further. It’s taking enough courage to say these things as it is. “I can’t really describe it. It’s… I care for you a lot, and I want to see you smile and hear you laugh. I enjoy being around you and close to you on a whole other level than simple friendship. If that makes sense.”

Sousuke doesn’t say a single word, and every moment of his silence makes Makoto more and more anxious.

“…Please say something,” Makoto whispers. He rattles his brain trying to think of something more to say. “I promise that it’s _really_ no different from liking a girl.”

“I’ve never had romantic feelings for anyone.”

Makoto tenses and rubs his hands together.

“Well… maybe you just don’t have romantic feelings at all? There are some people like that. There’s a word for it, but I can’t remember what Sato told m--”

“I _want_ to fall in love with someone,” Sousuke interrupts. His voice is clipped at the end of it, like he didn’t want to say it. His voice gets quiet. “I want to. I’m just confused.”

“…I didn’t know you were capable of saying something so embarrassing,” Makoto mutters. He feels a sharp smack against his arm and laughs. Some of the tension lifts and Makoto’s stomach unknots a little.

“I’m serious,” Sousuke presses. “I’m not a complete emotionless bastard. I have fears about being alone, and I’m not afraid to admit that. When Rin left a long time ago, I had no one. I was alone and the only way I could cope with it was by hurting myself through over-strenuous training.”

Thunder rumbles slightly in the distance. Makoto rubs his hands together. His fingertips are cold, and he wonders when they can get under the covers.

“That’s… how I feel, too,” Makoto says.

“Well, I know _you’re_ not an emotionless bastard.”

“That’s not what I meant! The being alone thing. I feel the same way. I cope with it differently than you do, but I feel it too. I’ve never really been _alone_ alone, I’ve always had Haru. But… well, being gay can make someone feel alienated and alone, regardless of the friends you have. I’ve never been in a romantic relationship with anyone because I fear loneliness so much that I won’t chase anything out of fear that I will get hurt and end up all by myself.”

“Oh.”

They’re quiet again. The air buzzes with emotional energy, the tension so thick that it feels like Makoto can’t breathe properly. They’re both vulnerable now, wounds carved wide open.

“I want to kiss you,” Makoto finally whispers. It slips out before he can stop himself and he immediately backtracks. “I-I-I-I mean…! I mean, I don’t want to feel like I’m pressuring you or--”

“What a stupid time to say something like that. I just bared my soul to you and all you can think about is a stupid kiss,” Sousuke chastises. Makoto lets his head drop into his hands.

“Uggggh, _sorry_ , it just slipped out,” Makoto whimpers.

“If you want to kiss me, then just do it,” Sousuke drawls. “Jeez. It’s just a kiss. It’s not like you’re proposing to me.”

Makoto swallows hard and turns in the darkness.

“Where are you?” he whispers, his hand gliding across the bed in search for Sousuke. He finds his ankle and crawls forward, sliding his hand up his calf along the way. The leg hair beneath Makoto’s fingers is soft and short. He must shave his legs from time to time to keep it this sparse. His hand reaches Sousuke’s knee and continues up his thigh. Sousuke shifts abruptly, nearly knocking Makoto’s hand away.

“Holy _shit_ ,” he hisses.

“What?” Makoto asks, breathless. He can’t get enough air in his lungs and every inhalation is nothing but fire.

“…Nothing. Are you going to do it or not?” Sousuke asks. He doesn’t give Makoto time to respond and yanks him closer. Makoto practically falls on him, catching himself with a hand on Sousuke’s chest.

“I can’t see,” Makoto says, straining to see the outline of Sousuke’s face in the darkness.

“Do you want some light?”

“No. Don’t tease me if I miss,” Makoto grumbles. Sousuke chortles lightly, but stops breathing when Makoto touches his cheek. “Are you sure this is okay?”

“ _You’re_ the one making this difficult,” Sousuke snaps. “This is just a test, alright? Like I said, I don’t want to make a god damn engagement party out of this.”

“Sousuke- _kun_ , please shut up,” Makoto says, voice cold. Sousuke’s breath hitches and he obeys. Tracing his thumb over Sousuke’s lips, Makoto draws in close and shuts his eyes. He feels Sousuke taking short, erratic breaths.

Their noses knock together. Makoto jerks his head away and Sousuke laughs.

“You really missed!” he snorts. Makoto brings his free hand up and smacks the side of Sousuke’s face. Holding his head tightly, he brings him forward and smashes their lips together. He swallows Sousuke’s laugh and kisses him. Sousuke doesn’t seem to know how to react at first, but then he kisses back. When they pull away, he takes a shuddering breath. “So you _can_ be aggressive.”

“Growing up with Haru requires both patience and a little bit of aggression, yes,” Makoto mumbles. He’s shaking so hard that his teeth are chattering a little in his mouth.

“Don’t you _dare_ talk about Nanase right now.”

Sousuke grabs Makoto’s collar, yanks him forward, and kisses him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friend [Diana](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK! Sorry about that brief intermission! Just so everyone knows: all homework assignments were completed, turned in on time, and the midterm exam went well! 
> 
> Thank you for your patience!

“Oh my god, he _kissed_ you?”

“Sato-san, not so loud!” Makoto whines, reaching out to put his hand over Sato’s mouth. She grabs his wrist and pushes his hand away, eyes shining.

“No way! No way, did he give you _tongue?_ ” Sato hisses. She stands on her tiptoes as she says it. Makoto groans. “Oh my god, did it go… even _further_ than that?”

“No. And _no!_ We just… just kissed for a while, is all,” Makoto says. He coughs into his fist. It’s Monday, right after his anatomy class. Sousuke, who has an exam on Wednesday for his geography class, agreed to meet up with Makoto to go to the gym later after studying for a bit. To kill his time, Makoto went to the library with Sato, planning to supplement his notes with hers.

The library has five floors and the whopping square footage of an Olympic arena. Since it’s both a college and a public library, the first floor is dedicated to novels and other recreational books for the public. The remaining four floors holds nearly two million text books, dictionaries, and reference books for college students. Makoto never knew so many books full of knowledge could be crammed into one building. In fact, it is so packed that the bookshelves are on metal sliding tracks. Visitors have to move the shelves via a control panel at the end of each bookcase in order to make aisles for themselves.

However, most students come to the library for studying rather than checking out books, so most of the space is used for seating. The second floor has study rooms, a small art studio full of the latest works from the college of art, and another room the students deem to be a ‘nap room’. It’s not really for naps, but the chairs are comfy and there is almost always someone sleeping in there. Since the second floor is almost always packed with students, Makoto and Sato have gone to the fifth floor. Here, there are still quite a few students, but it’s certainly not as crowded.

“Come get some water with me,” Sato says. She grabs her pink water bottle and gets up from her chair. Makoto stands and goes along with her, maneuvering through rows and rows of study desks and computer stations. “So you guys didn’t do _anything_? That’s pretty boring.”

“Well, he said he didn’t want to make it anything serious yet. He…” Makoto speeds up to walk alongside Sato so he can lean down and whisper in her ear. “He said that he’s physically attracted to me, though.”

“Are you serious?” Sato gasps. They reach the water fountain next to the restrooms and the elevators. Sato lowers her water bottle to the water fountain and presses her hip against the button. “That’s quite the jump from ‘it’s up in the air’, don’t you think?”

“Um, he said he really started noticing me after I told him I liked him,” Makoto explains. “He was really shy about it, too. It was kinda cute.”

“Aw,” Sato coos. “I hope everything pans out. But honestly, I don’t see how it couldn’t. He’s so obviously into you that it’s embarrassing for _me_ to watch, and I read romance novels all the time. Also, are you okay with kissing him right now? I mean…”

“I started out thinking it was a big deal,” Makoto admits. “Since it was my first. But it really wasn’t all flowery and perfect. I can’t kiss very well yet. That’s what Sousuke told me. And then he tried to be cool by telling me he’d teach me, but then I accidentally…”

Makoto doesn’t finish and puts a strained smile on his face. Eyebrows twitching, he laughs nervously.

“What did you do?” Sato presses. “Oh my god. _Tell me_.”

“Well, it was really dark, and I moved my knee and accidentally… in the crotch--”

Sato howls with laughter, attracting a few grumpy stares from nearby students. Makoto hushes her desperately, trying to cover her mouth.

“Shh-hh! This is why I didn’t want to tell you!” he hisses. Sato wipes tears from her eyes and takes deep, heaving breaths.

“I think I’m going to pee my pants,” she wheezes, abruptly leaving to rush to the bathroom. Makoto sighs and gets a drink of water from the drinking fountain.

That night had been… interesting, to say the least. At some point Makoto and Sousuke had ended up underneath the covers. It never escalated past closed-mouth kisses, but Makoto can still remember the warm slip-and-slide of Sousuke’s lips on his. Sousuke kissed like he had experience; he knew just the right places to add pressure and where to let up. At one point, Makoto wondered if he was trying to show off--there had been an awkward change in rhythm at one moment. It was still wonderful.

Makoto doesn’t really care that they were kissing without being in an official relationship. Sousuke is _into_ him, like Sato said. Whether it’s physical or romantic, Sousuke is interested. The speed with which he reciprocated physical attraction is surprising but still cute. The romance can come later. For now, Makoto has the satisfaction of knowing that Sousuke, even at the most primitive level, wants him. Their kisses had been peppered with soft sounds and sighs and shallow gasps for air; eventually both of them got a little hot and bothered. That was when they ended it, not wanting to push it any further.

Makoto smiles to himself and touches his fingers to his lips.

His phone vibrates in the middle of his daydreaming. Dazed, he reaches into his pocket and pulls it out. It’s a text from Sousuke.

_[I’m so fucking bored. I want to work out.]_

_[Did you study at all or were you just playing games on your phone?]_ Makoto texts back. There’s a long pause afterwards. Makoto rolls his eyes and sends another text. _[You need to be studying!!!]_

_[I HAVE been studying.]_

_[Liar!]_

Sousuke sends a picture of a study guide which has been partially filled out. It’s really not enough to be considered worthwhile studying. Also featured in the picture is Sousuke’s middle finger. Makoto smiles.

 _[At least finish that page, we can go after that.]_ he texts. As he sends it, Sato emerges from the bathroom.

“Texting Yamazaki-kun?” Sato asks. She has a knowing smile on her face. Makoto grins back and hides his phone against his chest.

“Is it obvious?”

“About as obvious as your super red ears,” Sato teases. Makoto groans and puts his free hand over his ear.

“I can’t help it,” Makoto whimpers.

“It just means you have healthy skin. You’re lucky you’re so young,” Sato laments as they head back towards their seats. Makoto trots behind her like a puppy following its master.

“But you’re only…” Makoto trails off. “How old are you, Sato-san?”

“I’m turning twenty-one in August,” she says, turning around and walking backwards. She barely avoids toppling over an armchair. “You’re still eighteen, right?”

“Yeah. I turn nineteen in November,” Makoto says. “Haru’s lucky, though. He’s turning nineteen at the end of this month.”

“Haru…?” Sato asks. They get back to their little spot by a big, circular window. Sato flops down in her chair and takes a big gulp of water. “Oh! Haru-kun, your best friend? The one who swims for the Tokyo swim team?”

“Yeah,” Makoto says, sitting. Sato nods.

“You mentioned he’s asexual before, right? Or was that someone else?” Sato muses.

“Yeah, he’s asexual,” Makoto says. “He’d like you a lot, probably. He really hates it when people think that he… ‘reproduces’ by himself or something.”

“He can come to the LGBTQ group too!” Sato exclaims. Makoto has to shush her again when they get a few looks.

“Ah… Haru would probably hate it,” Makoto says with a nervous laugh. He tries to imagine Haru enjoying any sort of big LGBTQ event on campus and it nearly makes his brain short-circuit. _Absolutely not._

“That’s too bad. Does he have a girlfriend? Or a boyfriend?” Sato asks. Makoto tilts his head at her in confusion.

“Eh? He’s asexual, I said.”

“You never said he’s aromantic,” Sato points out. She continues to watch Makoto as she takes another drink. “Asexual people can have boyfriends and girlfriends, though. It’s just sexual attraction they don’t have. Aromantic is when they don’t have romantic feelings towards others.”

Makoto’s head spins. Right, he forgot about that one. He’d been confused enough when Sato talked about gender identity.

“You’re sure they’re not the same?” he asks, distressed. Sato laughs at him.

“You don’t have to look so pained! Wow, Iwatobi must’ve been a really, really small town,” Sato sighs. She puts her forehead in her hand, as if burdened with some great quest, then dramatically flicks her hand upwards. “I shall teach you!”

“I thought your major was physical therapy and nutrition,” Makoto says flatly. Sato giggles.

“Wow, don’t look at me like Yamazaki-kun,” she says. She sticks her tongue out and pushes Makoto’s knee with her foot. “I told you my original major was gender studies, right?”

“Did I really look like Sousuke just then?” Makoto asks. Sato chortles and shakes her head.

“Just for a second, you did. You guys are really rubbing off on each other. And speaking of the devil…”

Makoto abruptly turns to see Sousuke stalking towards them, one hand in his pocket and the other holding his phone in front of him. He looks up, sees Makoto, and scowls at him. He takes out an earbud, and Makoto can faintly hear the music playing. It sounds like… classical music, almost.

“I’ve been looking all over for you. I texted you like a hundred times,” Sousuke grumps. Makoto’s hand flies to his pocket and retrieves his phone. Sure enough, there are quite a few texts from Sousuke.

_[That’s too much effort. I’m coming now.]_

_[Where you at?]_

_[Still with Sato?]_

_[Makoto.]_

_[dhghne]_

_[jinebavdje]_

_[gh]_

_[CHECK YOUR PHONE, IDIOT.]_

_[I’m at the library.]_

_[What floor are you on?]_

_[God damnit.]_

_[If you’re on the fifth floor, you’re dead.]_

Makoto bursts into uncontrollable laughter and is barely able to keep the volume down by slapping his hand over his mouth. Sousuke grits his teeth, reaches out like he’s going to grab him roughly, and instead gently taps his fist on the top of his head.

“Jeez,” Sousuke sighs. His fist opens on top of Makoto’s head and just very faintly strokes his hair before he pulls his hand away and shoots a scowl at Sato. “What do you think _you’re_ doing?”

Makoto looks over and realizes Sato has stolen his phone. She’s looking at his texts with starry eyes.

“Oh my gosh, _Yamazaki-chan_ , I had no idea you depend so much on Tachiba--” Sato begins. She’s cut off when Sousuke grabs the mini bun at the top of her head and gives her a small shake. “Owowow _owow!_ ”

“ _Shhh_ ,” someone nearby hushes, followed by some annoyed grumbling from other people around them. Makoto flushes.

“Ah, we should probably go,” he whispers. He takes his phone back from Sato, gathers his things, and stands. “Sato-san, _please_.”

Sato is currently glaring over at the person who shushed her. Makoto tugs at her sleeve.

“Honestly,” Sousuke _tsk_ s. He takes Sato’s arm and lifts her out of her chair. With a hand on her back, he escorts her to the elevators. Makoto laughs and tags along, jogging a little to walk at Sousuke’s side.

“If they hated it so much, they should’ve just moved,” Sato complains once they get in the elevator. Taking a deep breath, she puts her hands on her hips and turns her attention to Sousuke. “Also, Yamazaki-kun, what are you listening to?”

Before Sousuke can grab his still-dangling earbud, Sato snatches it and puts it in her ear.

“Oh! You like classical music?” she asks. Sousuke quickly pauses his music before grabbing his earbud back. As the elevator doors open, Sato bounces after Sousuke as he marches out into the lobby.

“I thought I heard classical music, too,” Makoto chirps. Sousuke pinches his lips together and hunches his shoulders.

“I just listen to it when I study! It helps me concentrate. Quit making a huge deal out of it,” he grumbles. Makoto giggles and, without thinking, reaches out to gently run his hand down Sousuke’s forearm. It’s a subtle gesture, not much meaning to it, but Sousuke glances at him anyway. “What?”

“Nothing,” Makoto hums. Sousuke groans and rolls his eyes while Sato laughs. The three of them start to leave the library, but stop under the awning as they realize it’s raining. It’s been raining on and off all week.

“Man, I knew it,” Sousuke sighs. “I should’ve brought my umbrella.”

“I brought mine!” Sato exclaims. She swings her backpack around and pulls out her umbrella. It’s relatively small with a rainbow pattern. Sato opens it and lifts it over herself. With a cheeky wink, she walks out into the rain. “Gotta go to my next class! _Ciao!_ ”

“I think we just got ditched,” Makoto laughs. He crosses his arms, and Sousuke gives him a once-over.

“You cold?” he asks. Makoto shakes his head.

“No. I just don’t want to get wet,” Makoto replies. He looks out at the rain. Sousuke follows his gaze.

“Uh,” Sousuke begins quietly. “Hey, you wanna do something tonight?”

“Hm? We’re working out, aren’t we?” Makoto asks. Sousuke cringes and looks away.

“Ah, never mind. Forget it.”

“Wait a second, Sousuke! Tell me!” Makoto exclaims. When Sousuke doesn’t answer, Makoto reaches out and hooks his fingers on his elbow. Sousuke jumps and looks at him, his expression vulnerable for a moment. Makoto widens his eyes innocently and pushes out his lower lip. “Please, Sousuke?”

“…Do you give Nanase that sad puppy dog look?” Sousuke deadpans. Makoto’s pout slowly melts into a smile. He doesn’t let go of Sousuke’s arm.

“Actually, the puppy dog look stopped working on him when we got into high school,” Makoto says. “Usually I can convince him to do things if water or a pool is involved. He’s kinda caught onto what I’m doing, but… he still can’t resist the water.”

Sousuke grimaces.

“I thought you were a nice, innocent guy,” he sighs. “The more stuff I find out about you, the more I’m convinced you’re actually some kind of evil mastermind.”

“ _Evil?_ ” Makoto gasps, scandalized. Sousuke grins and lets out a small laugh.

“Okay, maybe not that far. Not evil,” Sousuke says. His voice is soft and his smile is softer. He’s giving Makoto such a fond look that he can’t stand to hold his gaze a second longer. Sousuke seems to feel the awkward atmosphere and gently pulls his arm free from Makoto’s hand. “But seriously, I was wondering if you wanted to do something? I mean, working out is great and all, but I think we can safely skip one session.”

He coughs into his wrist. Makoto nibbles his bottom lip.

“Maybe missing _one_ session won’t hurt,” Makoto ventures. Sousuke glances at him and gives him a half-smirk. Makoto beams back. “Where would you want to go?”

“Out of the rain, preferably,” Sousuke replies. He huffs a sigh and looks out at the drizzly day, his brow furrowed in thought. “You like karaoke at all?”

“I’ve… I’m kind of shy about my singing voice,” Makoto admits. Sousuke laughs.

“Thank god. I’m not a big fan of karaoke myself, actually.”

“Oh, well… we could go get something to eat?” Makoto asks. He checks his watch. “I mean, it’s still a little early for dinner, but we don’t have to rush.”

“Dinner sounds great,” Sousuke says. “Sweet. Want to go anywhere special?”

“Hmmm… there’s this really good hole-in-the-wall sushi place that Haru and I went to when we first came here,” Makoto says, hitting his palm with his fist. “It’s a little ways outside of Ichigaya, though, are you okay with that?”

“Is it outside of Shinjuku? I’m running a bit low on gas,” Sousuke warns. Makoto shakes his head.

“No, no, it’s Tsukino Sushi. Haven’t you been there?” Makoto asks. Sousuke shakes his head. “It’s delicious. Haru loved it so much, I could barely get him to leave. It’s really cheap, too, for the quality.”

Sousuke makes a face and looks off to the side.

“Even in this situation, you can’t stop talking about Nanase,” he mutters. Makoto flails a little, flustered.

“W-Wait, I didn’t mean it like _that_ , it’s just--”

Sousuke laughs and shakes his head.

“I’m kidding. Take a hint, Tachibana,” he says. He puts up the hood of his sweatshirt and starts walking out into the rain. Makoto follows, flinching when the cold rain drops hit his scalp.

“Hint about what?” he presses. Sousuke clicks his tongue.

“So clueless,” he sighs. Makoto worries at his bottom lip. Is Sousuke mad? No, that can’t be it. He’s still smiling to himself, but he won’t look at Makoto.

“Ah… Sousuke?” Makoto asks, fretful.

“Think about it. Why would I be asking if you’re doing anything tonight?”

Makoto ponders for a moment before it hits him. The embarrassment seems to be catching up with Sousuke just as Makoto draws in a sharp breath, his lips a perfect ‘O’.

“Could it be that you’re asking me on a _date?_ ” Makoto asks. Sousuke lets out a strained sound, reaches up, and yanks the strings of his hood so it covers up his eyes. Makoto just laughs as joy seeps into his heart. Even with the cold rain hitting his shoulders, he feels warmth blossoming through him.

“It sounds so stupid when you say it like _that_. But yes, that’s what I’m doing,” Sousuke grumbles. He straightens his hood and looks at the sidewalk ahead of him with a petulant look on his face. “Man, I’m turning into an absolute idiot.”

“I’m happy,” Makoto says truthfully. And he must look stupid, with a big smile on his face as his hair gets wet and drips down his cheeks, but he can’t bring himself to care. “I really am.”

“…Good,” Sousuke says. “Uh… this doesn’t bother you?”

“Hmm?”

“We’re not official. Like, I still don’t know if I reciprocate your feelings. Romantically, I mean,” Sousuke explains. He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m stringing you along like some asshole. I know I care about you at the very least. One time, a girl confessed to me and I sort of just blew it off because I didn’t care. But, you know… I do care. About you.”

Sousuke clears his throat and looks away. Makoto’s fairly certain he can see a blush on his cheeks. He smiles and gently brushes the back of his hand against Sousuke’s, deciding not to say anything.

When they get to his car, they’re not _soaked_ per se, but Makoto’s hair is uncomfortably wet and plastered to his forehead. He sits down and shakes his head back and forth, inadvertently flicking water all over Sousuke’s face. Sousuke laughs and reaches over to shove Makoto’s shoulder.

“Hey, watch it!” Sousuke exclaims. Makoto giggles and buckles his seatbelt. As Sousuke pulls out of the parking spot (one he had found miraculously close to the library), he goes silent. He finally speaks up when he turns on his windshield wipers. “But seriously. Does it bother you? We don’t have to do this if it does.”

“I’ve spent a big portion of my life being too afraid to even _look_ at a guy for too long,” Makoto says after a moment of thought. “I never dreamed that I’d be able to actually have a date with someone, much less the guy I _like_. This is more than okay. It’s more than I ever thought I could’ve gotten. Not to mention... well, we’ve already kissed twice now.”

They share a soft, fond laugh and drift back into silence.

“I guess you’re right,” Sousuke says. “But you deserve more.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, man. Just… you’ve been holding back for so long, yeah? Doesn’t it upset you that you’re not getting what you want? Piss you off? Anything?” Sousuke asks. Makoto hums thoughtfully.

“I never had to question my sexuality. I knew from the moment I began to have feelings for other people that I was gay. But you’ve just been thrown into it without warning. If anything, I should be the one apologizing to you for making you feel this way. I have no idea how stressful it is to be questioning a part of you that you thought you knew your whole life. It’s been stressing you out, right? I can see it in your face when I look at you,” Makoto says. Sousuke flashes him a confused look and Makoto reaches up to tap his own eyebrows. “Right here. It’s wrinkled a lot when I’m around you.”

Makoto returns his hand to his lap and smiles serenely.

“I wish I could give you advice, but I don’t know what you’re going through. But regarding dating, kissing… anything like that, I’m okay with it, because you’re experimenting. You’re trying to find your identity during all of this, and as your friend I want to support you. Will I be disappointed if you end up rejecting me? Yes, of course. But you’re my friend, and I would never hold it against you. I know what I signed up for, and I know that it could end in rejection. And I’m _terrified_ of rejection because of the fact that I’m a man, but… I really just couldn’t help myself,” Makoto laughs. He rubs his arm and looks out the window. “I’m sorry. I’m selfish. I still want you even though I’m scared.”

Sousuke doesn’t say anything. When Makoto looks over at him, he’s staring hard at the road.

“Sorry I made it weird,” Makoto apologizes. Sousuke rolls his eyes.

“Stop apologizing. _Please_ stop apologizing,” Sousuke pleads. “You’re so eager to… to… what’s that saying? Set fire to yourself to keep others warm. That’s it. That’s what you’re doing. You love other people more than you love yourself, and it’s going to hurt you. You’re not selfish for wanting to kiss me or be with me, it’s called being in _love_ with somebody for fuck’s sake. You may have known you were gay, but this is a first time for you, too. We’re both being selfish in a way, but that’s what makes us people. And I _am_ experimenting, but it’s because I _trust_ you, and _care_ about you, and consider you to be the closest damn friend I have in this school that I’m doing this with you.”

Sousuke looks over at Makoto, his face scrunched like he’s in pain.

“And for another thing, I like kissing you too, okay? You can stop believing that the enjoyment is one-sided, because it’s not. Kissing is probably one of my favorite things. Shit, you’re even pretty bad at kissing and it’s still fun,” Sousuke scoffs. Makoto laughs with him, his heart beginning to lighten as he hugs his backpack tightly against him. “So, seriously. Be honest. Do you like doing these things even though it’s not official?”

“Yes,” Makoto says, perhaps a little too quickly. “I really do.”

Sousuke smiles and sighs through his nose.

“…Sweet. Let’s stop off at my place before we go to Tsukino’s. I’ve got some dry clothes you can wear.”

“Okay!”

As Makoto and Sousuke chat, Makoto’s phone sits unattended in the side pocket of his backpack. Unbeknownst to him, he had forgotten to turn the volume back up before leaving the library.

_1 missed call from ~Haru-chan!~._

_2 missed calls from ~Haru-chan!~._

_3 missed calls from ~Haru-chan!~…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friend [Codango](https://codango.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	18. Chapter 18

“Shit. You almost look better than _me_ in that shirt,” Sousuke comments. Makoto looks down at the black polo Sousuke gave him to wear. It’s not much bigger than the clothes he owns.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Makoto disagrees bashfully. Sousuke just snorts and lifts his water glass to his lips.

Tsukino’s is quite literally a hole-in-the-wall. The little sushi shop is barely visible from street level. Most of the other patrons are other young people hanging out. The decor is traditional Japanese, and the lighting has been dimmed, creating a cozy atmosphere.

Makoto and Sousuke are sitting across from each other in a corner booth, a little ways from the other patrons. It’s blessedly quiet and removed from the particularly loud group of men near the front of the shop.

“So did you and Sato actually manage to accomplish anything at the library, or was she prying the whole time?” Sousuke asks. Makoto blinks and runs his thumb around the lip of his water glass.

“Um… well, a lot of time was spent talking, yes,” Makoto confesses. Sousuke gives him a look. “I’m sorry! Sato-san wouldn’t stop asking, and I… well…”

“You’re a man who kisses and tells. I see how it is,” Sousuke mutters. Makoto flushes bright red and hides his face. However, he feels Sousuke’s foot gently tap against his underneath the table. “Oi. I’m just kidding.”

“I know you are, but it doesn’t embarrass me any less,” Makoto sighs. Snorting, Sousuke leans forward and puts his elbows on the table.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Not… not really.”

“You like it when I tease you?” Sousuke laughs. Makoto shrugs and runs his thumb around the lip of his glass a little faster. Sousuke lifts his glass to take another gulp.

“Well, that is--”

Makoto watches as Sousuke’s eyes happen to look at something over his shoulder. He appears to spot something before his eyes widen and he makes a gurgling sound in the back of his throat. His whole body spasms as he chokes, and he spits his drink back into his glass. Makoto, startled, turns to follow his gaze.

A fiery red blur blazes past him to shove Sousuke roughly back against the booth by his shirt collar.

“ _Sousuke!_ ”

“Rin, what the fuck are you doing here?” Sousuke wheezes. He grabs Rin’s wrist and shoves him off. He wipes away the water on his chin and refuses to meet Rin’s glare. Rin stands over the table, chest heaving and eyes wild. His fists clench and unclench at his sides.

“I could ask the same of you. What the fuck. What the _fuck_ , Sousuke, don’t even _fucking_ tell me you go to the university here,” Rin snarls. Sousuke’s lips twitch as he frowns. “I knew it. You piece of _shit_.”

“Rin, where’d you g--”

Makoto ducks his head in shame as a familiar voice comes up from behind. Haru materializes beside Rin, looking disinterested until he lays his eyes on Makoto.

“Makoto?” he hisses. Now Rin’s attention is on him, too. Makoto puts his face in his hands and wishes he could climb in a hole and die. Haru’s voice is cold. “What are you doing here with Yamazaki?”

“This isn’t the place to do this,” Sousuke says, hurriedly getting out of his booth. Rin storms after him. Makoto moves to get up, but Haru blocks him in.

“Makoto,” Haru says. His voice is angry, and it makes Makoto flinch. He doesn’t look Haru in the eye.

“I can explain later. But more importantly, we have to follow them,” Makoto says. Haru grits his teeth.

“No, we don’t.”

“My stuff is in his car!” Makoto snaps, looking for any kind of excuse. He looks up at Haru, jaw set in determination. “Please.”

Resigned, Haru groans and lets Makoto out of the booth. The two of them follow after Sousuke and Rin, who are arguing heatedly in front of the restaurant. The late afternoon is nearing dusk now as the sun sets; the rain has stopped.

“You told me that you were in Iwatobi, getting treatment and making plans to join a swim team. Don’t sit there and feed me this bullshit about taking some time out to hang out with Makoto. I don’t know where you stand with him, but it sure as hell isn’t friendly enough for you to fly up here for a _night out_. I had a feeling Gou was keeping something from me. I had hoped it wouldn’t be _this_.”

Makoto and Haru stop in front of them. Haru looks on placidly as Makoto flicks his gaze from Rin to Sousuke and wrings his hands. Sousuke glances at him out of the corner of his eye and looks away again, hunching his shoulders.

“How many more times are you going to lie to me?” Rin hisses. When Sousuke is silent, Rin grinds his teeth and snatches up Sousuke’s collar in his balled fist. “ _Answer_ me, god damn it.”

“Rin, I--” Makoto begins.

“Shut up,” Sousuke bites. “This isn’t your fight.”

Shocked, Makoto withdraws in on himself. Beside him, Haru tenses.

“Talk to Makoto like that _one more time_ ,” Haru threatens. His voice is icy as he spits it out. Sousuke rolls his head back and smiles, but it doesn’t touch his eyes at all.

“Nanase, one more word out of your fucking mouth, and I’ll make sure you _never_ see the Olympic stage.”

Rin shoves Sousuke violently, sending him reeling back. He crashes into a garbage bin, making the metal creak in protest. People on the sidewalk around them are stopping to stare.

“We’re going to my house,” Sousuke says. “Right now. I’m not doing this in public.”

Rin takes deep breaths, his face scrunched up with fury. Glaring, he stands with his fists clenched at his sides.

“Fine. We’re going right now.”

Sousuke leads him down the sidewalk, hands in his pockets and his back hunched. Makoto and Haru naturally follow, but Sousuke stops.

“Makoto, Nanase, go home,” he says over his shoulder. “Now.”

“Um…” Makoto whispers, shaking.

“Makoto’s things are in your car,” Haru interrupts. He scowls unwaveringly at Sousuke.

“Shit,” Sousuke curses. “Fine, whatever. I’ll drive you home. Just keep your mouths shut.”

They bustle to Sousuke’s car, which is parked a little ways down the block. Rin takes the front passenger seat, forcing Makoto and Haru into the back seats. As Sousuke drives off, Rin immediately begins to yell.

“Think you could just slip it past me, huh, without me finding out? Must really suck that I came up to visit, then!”

“You think I wanted to? Rin, you’re constantly pressuring me to--”

“You have so much talent and you’re screwing it up by fucking around!”

“I’m _not_ fucking around! I have been working towards recovering. Aerobics, shoulder exercises, physical therapy, I’m still doing all that shit!”

“But you’re doing it here, at university. And if you’re here, it means you’ve given up on swimming competitively,” Rin concludes. Sousuke is silent. Rin shakes his head. “Un-fucking-believable. Such a fucking waste.”

“ _What I want to do is not a waste!_ ” Sousuke bellows with so much sudden volume that Makoto jumps. He shivers in his seat and puts his head down in his backpack. “Physical therapy has never been a waste, I want to make sure no one else makes the same stupid, shitty mistake I did!”

“If you felt that way, you should’ve _told me!_ ”

“As if I could, you never give a shit about how I feel about all of this, I was content with being done after that last relay. But you dismissed everything I said, didn’t give a fuck that my dream had already--”

“That’s a bunch of bullshit, and _you know it!_ ” Rin screams, slamming his fist down on the center compartment. “Pull this car over. Pull over!”

When Sousuke doesn’t do anything, Rin lashes out and shoves him. Sousuke lets out a yelp as the force of Rin’s push slams his injured shoulder into the window. Makoto gasps sharply as if the pain had gone straight to him. He leans forward to try and break it up, but Haru blocks him with an arm extended across his chest.

The car swerves, and Sousuke curses loudly as another car honks at him. He reaches backwards into the backseat and finds Makoto’s knee. He squeezes him hard, as if to hold him there and prevent him from being jostled around.

“I have _passengers_ , you idiot!” Sousuke roars.

“ _PULL OVER!_ ”

Sousuke swears again and pulls off to the side of the road. He puts the car in park with a little more force than necessary. They’re next to a grassy area; a small memorial park. Before anyone can say anything, Rin gets out of the car. Sousuke throws his seatbelt off, switches on his hazard lights, and barely has time to open his door before Rin is yanking him out by the collar.

Makoto hurriedly reaches down, fumbling for the buckle of his seatbelt. All he finds is Haru’s hand, clutching the buckle tight and preventing him from touching the button.

“No,” Haru says firmly. Distressed, Makoto pulls helplessly at his seatbelt as he watches Sousuke and Rin disappear into the darkness. He can hear faint yelling but can’t make out individual words. “Makoto, stop. Rin is _not_ a passive problem-solver. You will get hurt if you get in their way.”

“What happened? Why is this happening?” Makoto asks, frantic. He’s so tired of being held back like this. Leaning up close to the window, he tries to peer into the darkness with the limited lighting. Haru scoffs beside him.

“It’s obvious. I was trying to call you to tell you. Rin wanted to surprise us, and his first stop was Iwatobi. You can imagine what happened when he found out Yamazaki wasn’t in town. Apparently Yamazaki has been telling him he’s in Iwatobi.”

“How’d you know we were at Tsukino’s?” Makoto asks. He turns back to Haru, who frowns at him.

“I didn’t. I was taking Rin out to eat. I was trying to call you so you could come, too,” Haru says. His face turns dark, and he looks away. “But you were with Yamazaki.”

Makoto fidgets. Haru’s mad.

“Are you mad at me?”

“He’s a liar. He lies to conserve his own feelings,” Haru dodges the question. “And you don’t deserve to be treated that way.”

“He doesn’t lie to me!” Makoto exclaims. “He hasn’t lied to me once. Not a single time. He cares about me and--”

“You came home sobbing about him,” Haru snaps. “So how much does he really care about you? And how do you know he’s not lying to you?”

“Haru--”

“I don’t want you to get hurt!” he blurts. His face is more distressed than Makoto has seen it in months, which makes him want to sink back into his car seat until he disappears. “If Yamazaki can hurt Rin like this, he can hurt you.”

Makoto is about to answer when a figure flies out of the dark and slams against his car door. With a shriek, Makoto jerks himself away and looks up to see Sousuke’s back pressed up against the window. There’s a very clear sound of flesh connecting with flesh, followed by a pounding sound on the top of the car that can only be Sousuke’s head smacking against it.

“ _Haru!_ ” Makoto yells. This time, Haru doesn’t stop him from unbuckling his seat belt, because Haru is already halfway out of the car. Makoto scrambles after him, struggling to get out of the small confines.

“Get Yamazaki!” Haru barks over the sound of Sousuke and Rin’s fight. Makoto and Haru dash around the car and reach into the mess of limbs that is Sousuke and Rin. They’re on the ground now, both sets of hands grabbing fistfuls of shirts.

Makoto grabs the back of Sousuke’s shirt and hauls him to his feet. Sousuke stands, wavering on his feet and nearly toppling over. His face is covered in blood. Makoto’s first impulse is to be frightened by the sight, but he ignores the urge to run away and instead holds fast to Sousuke. He keeps swaying, his body like a cobra itching to strike.

Meanwhile, Rin is cursing and yelling at the top of his lungs, most of it just incoherent screaming. When Makoto looks over his shoulder, Haru’s got Rin tightly restrained from behind, his arms hooked on his shoulders. Rin is thrashing and trying to kick out at Sousuke. His face is bloody, too, from a split lower lip.

“Break their eye contact,” Haru instructs over the noise, and Makoto watches as he starts tugging at Rin to turn him away from Sousuke. Makoto follows his example, gently pushing Sousuke so he’s turned away. Sure enough, both men begin to relax. Makoto pulls back to look at Sousuke. His left eye is watering. Makoto thinks he’s going to cry at first but then realizes Sousuke’s eyelid is puffed up. It’ll definitely be a black eye later.

The source of the blood is from his nose, but Sousuke doesn’t look to be too seriously hurt. The blood has already dried, staining his skin.

“Fuck you, Sousuke.”

Sousuke and Makoto look to Rin, who is giving Sousuke the middle finger over Haru’s shoulder.

“Just… fuck you. You’re a piece of shit,” he spits. Specks of blood fly from his lips.

“Hey, fuck you, too,” Sousuke snarls back. He makes a jerking motion like he’s going to try and lunge at Rin, but Makoto just holds him tighter. “Quit acting like competitive swimming is the be-all, end-all to our friendship. You give more of a shit about swimming than you do about my feelings, and that really says something.”

“You give me no reason to trust you, ever! You don’t give me a reason to believe in our friendship because you don’t call, you don’t write, I mean… for fuck’s sake, it’s like you don’t even exist! Because you’re too busy making up lies to have time to actually be my friend. Your _feelings?_ That’s _all_ I care about!” Rin roars. He’s crying now, but they’re angry tears. “And I know you well enough to know that you’re giving up on your dreams!”

“I have new dreams! I have dreams that don’t involve swimming competitively, alright, I’m not like you or Nanase, and I _never_ will be!” Sousuke bellows. Makoto’s ears ring with the volume of his voice. “Why the fuck won’t you listen to what I have to say instead of making everything about fucking… fucking _swimming!_ ”

“ _Because I miss you!_ ” Rin wails. He’s sobbing now.

“Rin, you’re such a loud baby,” Haru comments.

“Shut up!” he blubbers. He raises his fists to his eyes and scrubs them hard. Makoto looks up to Sousuke’s face. It’s absolutely blank.

“Whatever. Get back in the car,” Sousuke mutters. He pushes Makoto away, squeezing his upper arm until he is forced to release him. Haru and Rin don’t move even as Sousuke stalks towards his car. Sousuke looks over his shoulder. “I said, get in the _fucking_ car. I won’t hesitate to leave all of you out here.”

Makoto shuffles on his feet and is the first to step forward.

“Don’t,” Haru says. Freezing mid-step, Makoto glances over at Haru and Rin. Haru’s expression is blank, but the strain is evident in his eyes. Rin just looks mildly confused.

“Makoto, I’m not leaving you out here,” Sousuke says. “So come on.”

Makoto hesitantly takes another step forward. He hears Haru make an angry sound behind him, but he doesn’t turn around. Sousuke’s eyes soften as Makoto comes closer.

“There’s a train station down the road,” Sousuke says. He doesn’t look at Rin. “Call me when you’ve settled down.”

Rin lets out a yell that sounds more like a snarl. When Makoto looks, Haru’s restraining him again as he thrashes. Without making eye contact, Makoto slips into Sousuke’s car and shuts the door.

\---

Makoto sits on Sousuke’s bed, fidgeting. From the bathroom, he can hear the sound of running water and cursing. Not wanting to think about it, Makoto reaches for his backpack and fishes out his phone. He finally sees the missed calls from Haru, and a missed call from Rin. Ten times. Haru called him _ten times_.

“…Ugh,” Makoto groans. He puts his head in his hand and squeezes the bridge of his nose. Sighing, he goes to his contacts and calls Haru. He picks up before the second ring.

 _“Are you alright?”_ Haru asks right off the bat. _“Where are you?”_

“I’m fine. I’m at Sousuke’s house. He’s getting cleaned up.”

_“…Are you going to stay?”_

“I, well, yeah,” Makoto mumbles. “I know you’re angry. I’m sorr--”

 _“You’re capable of making your own choices,”_ Haru interrupts. _“But if you get your feelings hurt, don’t cry to me saying I didn’t warn you.”_

He hangs up. Exhaling shakily, Makoto holds the phone to his ear for just a second longer before lowering it.

“If being here is causing you to fight with Nanase, then leave.”

Makoto looks up to Sousuke, who’s standing in the doorway. His left eye is really puffy now.

“Sousuke,” Makoto whispers. He stands and starts towards him, but Sousuke lifts a hand and gestures for him to halt.

“Don’t. I don’t want your pity.”

Makoto flinches and wrings his hands uncomfortably. He opens his mouth like he’s going to speak, but quickly shuts it again. Looking at the floor, he hugs himself and fidgets.

"Ugh, shit. Look, I'm sorry. I'm wound up, I'm tired... if you're uncomfortable, maybe you should just go."

"I don't want to," Makoto says. "Everyone has been telling me what to do all night. Please let me have this at the very least."

" _Honestly_."

Sousuke comes forward very slowly and settles his hand on Makoto’s cheek. His fingertips gently card into his hair. Shutting his eyes, Makoto nuzzles his palm.

“Fine. You can stay, but don't look so freaked out. We’ve always been like that,” Sousuke explains. “Me and Rin, I mean. Rin confronts people physically and gets in their space. When people get in my space, I defend myself. I’m not afraid to be rough with him, because I’ve known him for such a long time, and that's just how we work things out. This isn’t the first time we’ve damn near broken each other’s faces, and it won’t be the last.”

“I know. I’m just worried. I’m not exactly a physically aggressive person, you know? I'd rather do things like sit down for tea and talk it out. Maybe discuss it over dinner?” Makoto titters. He smiles as Sousuke’s other hand comes up to hold his face. "Mm? What is it, Sousuke?"

“I'm going to kiss you."

His voice is low. Possessive. Makoto feels a shiver course through him like electricity. Body trembling, he reaches out for Sousuke’s shirt and holds fast. As Sousuke draws closer and tips his chin up, Makoto melts in his hold and becomes pliant. Their lips touch, and it’s much different than before.

There’s fire in his kisses; perhaps from leftover anger or something else entirely. It’s a brand new dynamic that has Makoto weak at the knees and begging for more with each soft sound at the back of his throat. Sousuke advances on him, nudging him backwards until he’s pressed against the wall. His hands slip down from his cheeks to his neck and wrap around his throat. He just holds him like that, fingertips tickling the sparse hairs on the back of Makoto’s neck.

Makoto loves the tingling sensation that comes with Sousuke’s hands on his neck. It thrills him to have strong hands cupped so tenderly around such a fragile place. Sousuke’s fingers ripple over his skin and, for a split second, Makoto wonders what it’d be like if Sousuke gave a little squeeze. Just a little one. However, Sousuke just rubs his thumbs up and down the column of his throat.

Sousuke glides the tip of his tongue along Makoto’s bottom lip before gently biting down and pulling back. Makoto moans as his lip snaps back into place, still tingling where Sousuke’s teeth dug into soft flesh.

“Wow,” Makoto whispers when he finds his voice. He tips his head back against the wall and just quivers. Sousuke’s hands slide down to his shoulders to hold him steady.

“…Makoto? Are you okay?” Sousuke asks. Makoto is most certainly not okay, because arousal is stirring in the pit of his stomach. He fiercely shoves the dirty thoughts aside and tries to think about anything else. _Test scores. Mom’s casseroles. Ran and Ren._ He’s soon able to regain control of his body and finally opens his eyes.

Sousuke looks a little flushed himself, his lips thin and red and pretty. Makoto desperately wants to kiss him again but restrains himself.

“You’ve never kissed me like that before,” Makoto finally says. Sousuke clears his throat and looks away.

“I’ve… uh… I’ve been told I’m sort of an intense kisser. Like possessive, or something like that. I was worried that you wouldn't like it,” he says. He lets out an awkward chuckle and looks down at the floor between their feet. “Sorry if it was too much.”

“It _was_ too much, but I’m not complaining,” Makoto murmurs. Sousuke laughs softly and runs his hands down Makoto’s arms. Holding him by the elbows, he moves forward and puts his forehead on Makoto’s shoulder. Makoto’s hands unclench from the front of his shirt and settle on his waist.

“I fucked up,” Sousuke whispers. Makoto hums and turns his head so his nose is buried in Sousuke’s hair. “I really fucked up.”

“You kinda did,” Makoto agrees very gently. Sousuke groans. “Why’d you lie to him?”

“He wouldn’t take no for an answer. He was determined to see me work through it and stand on the international stage with him. I wanted to tell him, but I couldn’t,” Sousuke says. “I was ashamed, and the lie just grew out of control. I knew it was going to blow up in my face at some point, but…”

“I don’t think you give Rin enough credit,” Makoto says. “You told me Rin was mad because you weren’t calling him as much, and based on what I heard tonight, you haven’t been really taking care of the friendship. I think Rin is more upset about that than the swimming, no matter what he says.”

“Mm,” Sousuke hums. Makoto strokes the curve of his waist up and down.

“I really do think both of you are at fault here, and you both need a chance to communicate calmly. _Without_ punching each other, preferably.”

“Someone needs to punch Rin in the face every once and a while,” Sousuke jokes. He lifts his head and smirks. “Who else would do it?”

Makoto would laugh, but Sousuke’s eye is starting to look pretty bad, so he starts pushing him towards the bed.

“Lie down. I’m going to get you some ice,” Makoto insists. Sousuke obediently lies down and nestles in bed.

“What are you, my wife now?” he teases. Makoto flushes. “That’s what you wish, right?”

He’s snickering like he’s just made the best joke on the planet. In the heat of the moment, Makoto leans down and nips at his lower lip, which immediately shuts him up.

“Don’t move a muscle,” Makoto instructs, straightening and starting out of the room. He gets ice from Sousuke’s freezer in the kitchen and drops it into a Ziploc baggie before wrapping it in a washcloth. When he gets back to Sousuke’s room, he hasn’t moved a muscle and is just staring at the ceiling. Makoto stops in his tracks. “Are you going to cry?”

Sousuke glances over at him and shakes his head.

“Nah, I’m not a little baby like Rin. I’m just thinking about how stupid I am.”

Makoto pads to his bedside and takes a seat. When Sousuke reaches for the ice, he gently pushes his hand away.

“Let me take care of it,” Makoto says. Sousuke folds his hands on his chest and closes his eyes, allowing Makoto to very gently lay the ice on his swollen eye. He hisses in pain at first, then lets out a long sigh of relief. “Better?”

“Still hurts like a bitch, but that ice feels good,” Sousuke says. Makoto hums in approval and just sits there. He’s tempted to touch Sousuke but suppresses the urge. Instead, he watches his peaceful face as he rests. After a few moments of silence, Sousuke opens his uncovered eye and looks at Makoto. “…Sorry I ruined our date.”

“It’s okay,” Makoto says, forgiving him without hesitation. Sousuke shakes his head a little and the ice bag slips off. Makoto gently brushes a droplet of liquid oozing from Sousuke’s swollen eye, then replaces the bag. “Please take care of this. I don’t want it to get infected. It’s already leaking.”

“I know, I know,” Sousuke grumbles, but he doesn’t sound annoyed at all. “And it’s not okay that I ruined our date. You were looking forward to it, and… and I was, too.”

Makoto’s heart skips a beat, and he smiles happily at Sousuke’s words.

“I don’t mind as long as I’m with you,” he says. It’s the honest truth. He blushes as he says it, and he knows it sounds very embarrassing, but he feels obligated to say it anyway.

“…I see,” Sousuke says. He doesn’t say a single thing more. It doesn’t matter, however, because Makoto can tell by the look on his face that his words have struck a chord within him. After a moment, Sousuke lifts the arm closest to Makoto and drapes it over his lap, pulling him closer by the waist. Makoto scoots back on the bed so he’s sitting with his back right up against Sousuke’s side. Sousuke just holds him like that without a word, his hand resting on his thigh. Humming softly, Makoto rubs his warm arm up and down, up and down, until he is brave enough to slide his fingertips over Sousuke’s hand.

He flips it over willingly, palm open, and Makoto tickles his fingertips along his palm before settling there. Their fingers interlock. It’s kind of an awkward angle, but Makoto doesn’t care because it’s Sousuke’s hand in his.

They sit like that for a good portion of the night in absolute silence, hand in hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friend [Codango](https://codango.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	19. Chapter 19

Rin flies back to Australia the day after the fight.

Sousuke doesn’t get a chance to redeem himself or mend the relationship, which puts him in a slump for the rest of the week. He skips class on Wednesday, leaving Makoto restless and bored in their anatomy class. Sato does her best to comfort him, but Makoto can’t shake Sousuke from his mind.

Wednesday blends into Thursday, and then it’s the weekend again.

“Sousuke has his surgery on Wednesday next week,” Makoto mutters to himself over a cup of coffee. Sato, who is nestled beside him on the couch in the coffee shop, looks up from her class notes. “I hope he can focus for the exam.”

“I’m sure Yamazaki-kun will be fine,” Sato reassures him. Patting his thigh, she turns her attention back to her notes. “He got a good grade on his last quiz, didn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Makoto sighs. He twists his watch on his wrist, staring at the date every time it passes. Saturday the twenty-first. Saturday the twenty-first. Saturday the twenty-first. “I don’t even know if I can focus. Haru’s still upset with me.”

“Haru-kun has to get it through his head that you’re an adult and that you’re capable of making your own decisions regarding love,” Sato says. “Seriously.”

“I know that. Haru’s trying to look out for me, is all,” Makoto explains. “He and Sousuke have never really gotten along, so he really doesn’t approve of him as anything more than an acquaintance of mine.”

“That doesn’t _matter_ ,” Sato presses. “What matters is your happiness. If Haru-kun can’t accept that, maybe he’s not such a good friend.”

“Don’t say that,” Makoto says a little harshly. He catches himself, however. “…Please don’t say bad things about Haru. He understands me more than you think.”

“Sorry,” she apologizes. Makoto smiles.

“It’s okay. I know you’re just trying to look out for me, too.”

“Have you tried talking to Haru-kun about it?” Sato asks. “Like… maybe he just needs a clear explanation.”

“It’s a little difficult to argue with Haru effectively,” Makoto says. He laughs a little and scratches his cheek. “That’s probably why we get along so well. I really don’t like confronting people.”

“I’m worried about you being so hesitant to talk about how you’re feeling. Something bad is going to happen if you keep up that front forever,” Sato warns. Nodding, Makoto takes a sip of coffee and nestles back in the couch.

“I know, it’s my weakness, kinda,” he giggles just as his phone’s text tone goes off. Licking the drop of coffee from the lid of his cup, Makoto digs his phone out of his pocket and finds a text from Haru.

_[come over. i made dinner.]_

“I might have to go, Sato-san,” Makoto says before he pulls up his and Sousuke’s chat window. He taps out a quick text to Sousuke.

_[Are we working out tonight?]_

_[No. I’m with my dad.]_

His dad? Sousuke doesn’t talk much about his dad. In fact, he doesn’t talk much about his family at all. Makoto wonders if something bad is happening, but doesn’t pry. Instead, he pulls Haru’s text window back up.

_[Sure! Be over in a bit.]_

“Leaving, Tachibana-kun?” Sato asks. Makoto stands from the couch and swings his backpack over his shoulder.

“Yeah. I’ll see you on Monday, okay?”

“Yep! Bye-bye.”

\---

“I wanted to apologize,” Haru says randomly in the middle of dinner. Makoto looks up from his yakisoba, noodles hanging from his mouth. He quickly slurps them up when he sees the unimpressed look on Haru’s face.

“Sorry,” Makoto says, muffled. “I was hungry.”

“I see. But anyway, I wanted to apologize. I don’t want to fight with you about Yamazaki,” Haru says. “It’s bothersome.”

“I don’t want to fight at all,” Makoto says, frowning. Haru looks up at him and sighs through his nose.

“Obviously,” he says under his breath. He pokes at a piece of kale with the tip of his chopsticks. “I still don’t like it.”

“He makes me _happy_ , Haru,” Makoto stresses. “I know your relationship with him is bad, but I promise he doesn’t treat me badly. He’s respectful and… and when he kisses me, it’s--”

“He’s kissing you?” Haru asks. He looks offended, then disgusted, then offended again. “And you’re not his boyfriend?”

“I don’t mind it!” Makoto says, waving his arms frantically. “It’s really not a big deal, we don’t have to be official to do those things, you know.”

“If _you_ want to date him, then _he’s_ the one who is having second thoughts, right?” Haru asks. “…Are you sure that’s okay?”

Haru is very obviously upset by this, but he is giving Makoto a chance to answer. Drawing in a deep breath, Makoto looks Haru in the eyes.

“It’s okay,” he says. “ _I’m_ okay. He’s just having trouble with his identity. It’s called ‘questioning’. That’s what Sato-san told me.”

“Sato-san again,” Haru huffs. “Your friend from college. You haven’t introduced us yet.”

Makoto’s frown melts into a smile.

“Could it be you’re feeling a little jealous of Sato-san, Haru?”

Haru tightens his lips and takes a bite of his yakisoba before upturning his nose and looking away. Makoto laughs and eats the rest of his dinner. When they finish, Haru ignores the dishes on the table and crawls around to Makoto’s side. Smiling, Makoto lets Haru cuddle up against him and put his forehead on his shoulder.

“Mm. Do you miss me?” Makoto asks. Haru hesitates but nods his head against his shoulder. “I see. And you wish I would spend more time with you?”

Haru hesitates even more, but Makoto already knows the answer.

“I’m sorry. Even though we’re both here in Tokyo, it’s still hard to see each other as often as we did in Iwatobi,” Makoto says gently. He shuffles and lies down beside Haru on the floor, their legs extended beneath the table. Using the kneeling cushion as a pillow, Makoto props his head up on his hand. “How is Coach Kento treating you?”

“He’s such a pain,” Haru mutters. “But he said my form is almost perfect.”

“That’s good,” Makoto says. Haru thinks to himself for a moment, opens his mouth to speak, and closes it again. Makoto just smiles. “There’s something on your mind. Tell me?”

“There’s someone on the swim team who is a lot like me. And I was thinking that maybe he’s asexual, too,” Haru says slowly. Makoto raises an eyebrow as Haru rolls onto his stomach and rests his head in his folded arms. Eyes closed, he takes a deep breath and lets it out slow. “He’s kind of loud, but he loves the water. Respects it. His personal trainer has to restrain him from jumping in the pool before practice starts.”

“That sounds a lot like you,” Makoto murmurs. He puts a hand on Haru’s back and rubs up and down. “You think you might be interested in a relationship?”

“Not really,” Haru sighs. “It’s too much effort, and he might not even be asexual.”

“I see,” Makoto says. His hand stops at the nape of Haru’s neck. He scritches him right at his hairline where he knows he likes it best. Haru hums and buries his face in his arms more, inviting Makoto to do as he pleases. “Hey Haru, do you think you’re aromantic, too?”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s kind of like asexual, except with romantic feelings. Like you don’t have romantic attraction at all,” Makoto explains. Haru is silent for a while, thinking.

“They’re two different things?” he asks. He lifts his head and looks over at Makoto.

“I was surprised, too. But that’s what Sato-san said. She knows a lot about a whole bunch of different orientations and stuff. I think you’d really like her,” Makoto says. Haru hums and rests his chin on his forearms.

“Maybe. Sometimes I think that I used to have a crush on Rin,” Haru admits. Makoto sits up abruptly.

“Really? That’s the first time I’ve heard any of this!” Makoto exclaims. Haru rolls onto his side, facing away from Makoto.

“I don’t know. I think I used to have a crush on you, too. But I never wanted a relationship out of it. The same thing with Rin. But I never felt that way towards Nagisa, Rei, or Gou,” Haru explains. He rolls onto his back, brows furrowed. “Is that weird?”

“It’s not weird,” Makoto murmurs. He puts a hand on Haru’s forehead and strokes his hair back. So Haru thinks about these things, too? Makoto always thought Haru just didn’t care at all about what other people thought of him. But here he is, admitting things Makoto never could’ve imagined coming out of his mouth.

“Alright,” Haru sighs. He still sounds troubled, but significantly more relaxed. “Can we try something?”

“Try what?” Makoto asks. He looks down at Haru. Haru looks back up at him. His expression says so much more than his words ever could, which makes Makoto gulp. Leaning his head down, he touches his lips very gently to the corner of his mouth. Three seconds pass before he lifts his head again. Haru’s got a blank look on his face.

“Hm,” is all he says before sitting up. Makoto sits up with him, grinning.

“How was it?”

“Weird,” Haru says flatly. “You reminded me of Ran and Ren when they kiss me.”

“Aww, Ran and Ren don’t give _me_ kisses,” Makoto whines. Haru lets out a quick sigh through his nose and smiles.

“I’m sure they’ll kiss you a lot when you come home.”

“Did it do anything? The kiss, I mean,” Makoto says. Haru shakes his head.

“No. Maybe I am what you said. Aromantic was the word?” Haru asks. Makoto nods. “Or maybe it’s just because we’ve known each other for so long. We’ve kissed before.”

“CPR doesn’t count,” Makoto laughs.

“Well yeah, but when we were little kids we did. You used to cry and cry until you got your goodnight kisses from me when you slept over, remember?”

“ _Honestly_ , Haru, you spoiled me so much,” Makoto laments. Haru tenses.

“I did _not!_ ” he protests. Makoto can’t hold back his laughter as Haru scowls and crosses his arms. Makoto just leans against him and wraps his arms around his best friend. Haru squirms. “You’re heavy. Get off.”

“Haru-chan,” Makoto sing-songs, leaning more and more until they fall over onto the tatami mat.

“ _Hey!_ ”

\---

Makoto spends the rest of the weekend at Haru’s apartment to make up for lost time, putting Haru in a significantly better mood. Even though he has to eat an inhuman amount of mackerel for the entirety of the weekend, Makoto doesn’t mind. He had forgotten how much he needed his best friend, and vice versa.

On Sunday night, Makoto goes to work out by himself, not wanting to get behind on his fitness. He’s been slacking off a bit, so he works out until he’s about ready to collapse. On Monday morning, he wakes up with pleasantly sore muscles from his intense workout. Sousuke’s in class with him today, but is still relatively quiet. He looks absolutely exhausted, staring tiredly at his empty notebook page as the teacher prattles on. Makoto sends Sousuke a few worried glances throughout the class period, and is a little hurt when Sousuke leaves without saying anything at the end of class.

Makoto follows him out, hurrying to catch up to him.

“Hey, Sousuke!” he calls. Sousuke stops in his tracks and another person bumps into him. Sousuke just stumbles to the side, looking around dazedly. Frowning, Makoto walks up to him and tilts his head. “Sousuke, are you alright?”

“Tired. Haven’t been getting much sleep,” Sousuke mutters. His voice is hoarse. “…Can we go sit down or something?”

“Of course,” Makoto says. “Do you want to come to my dorm?”

Sousuke blinks blearily and nods. Makoto is thankful that his dorms are so close and that Sousuke won’t have to get behind the wheel to get there. He leads Sousuke down the hall and to the elevators. They ride down together, leave the building, and make their way towards Makoto’s dorm. Sousuke walks slow and drags his feet, eyes downcast. Makoto gets more and more worried as they go. Is he really that wound up about Rin?

When they get to Makoto’s room, Makoto sets a hand on Sousuke’s good shoulder and escorts him into his room. When the door is closed, Sousuke hobbles to Makoto’s bed and faceplants onto it, groaning. Makoto can’t help but laugh at the sight. He helps Sousuke get his legs up on the bed and even takes his shoes off for him.

“Is this about Rin?” Makoto asks, setting Sousuke’s shoes neatly by the door. He comes back to the bed and kneels down beside him. Sousuke lifts his face from the pillow, eyes closed.

“No,” he says. He flops his head back down, pauses, and lifts it again. “A little bit. But it’s not _just_ because of that idiot.”

 _Plop_. His face is back in the pillow. Makoto giggles and lifts a hand to rub Sousuke’s bicep. He groans and nuzzles Makoto’s pillow.

“That feels _so_ fucking good,” he says, voice muffled.

“Does it?” Makoto asks with a grin. He rubs all the way up to Sousuke’s shoulder, then stands from the floor and sits beside him. He runs his hand all over Sousuke’s back, lightly scratching from top to bottom. Sousuke moans into his pillow and melts into the bed. After a while, Makoto thinks Sousuke might’ve fallen asleep. He stops his rubbing and leans in close to see if he can hear Sousuke’s sleep-breathing.

Sousuke abruptly turns onto his side and Makoto jumps, startled by the sudden movement. Sousuke laughs, but the smile immediately fades and he looks away.

“Um… can I tell you something?”

“What is it?” Makoto asks. He feels a tiny ball of anxiety begin to grow in his stomach. Is he going to…?

“I lied,” Sousuke says quietly. Makoto feels his heart plummet into his stomach. A cold sweat breaks out on his back.

“You lied?” Makoto breathes. “About what?”

Sousuke blinks and sits up.

“What’s with that face? It’s nothing bad,” Sousuke reassures him. Makoto puts his hand over his chest and lets out a shaky exhale.

“Don’t scare me like that!” he whines. Sousuke chuckles lowly and runs a gentle hand down Makoto’s spine.

“Sorry. Let me finish. I lied about… well, remember when I told you I’m not scared of the doctor?”

Makoto’s jaw drops as Sousuke grimaces and looks away. Scratching the back of his head, he sighs.

“Ugh. Yeah, I lied. I’ll be completely honest when I say that I’m terrified. I don’t know if it’s the smell, the tools, or the surgical masks, but it scares the shit out of me,” Sousuke says. He falls back on the bed and covers his eyes with his elbow.

“Why are you telling me?” Makoto asks. “I mean, I’m happy that you are, truly. But why…?”

“I’ve been having nightmares. Last night I had an anxiety attack,” Sousuke says. He lets his arm slide away from his eyes. The look on his face is vulnerable and Makoto wonders if this is the first time he has told anyone about this. Without a word, Makoto rests a hand on Sousuke’s stomach and leaves it there. “I haven’t had one in a while, and…”

“You should’ve called me,” Makoto murmurs. “I could’ve talked you through it.”

“I wasn’t exactly in the right state of mind to make any rational decisions,” Sousuke laughs grimly. “I haven’t been taking my medication, so that’s probably why.”

“Medication?”

“…Anti-depressants,” Sousuke mutters. Makoto’s eyebrows rise. “Don’t take that the wrong way. I’m embarrassed about it enough as it is.”

“You’re _depressed?_ ” Makoto asks, terrified. Sousuke rolls his eyes.

“Man, _no_. They’re just for the anxiety,” Sousuke says. He grunts as he sits up. Makoto’s hand falls from his stomach to his thigh and stays there. “When I got to college it calmed down a bit, especially since I had stopped trying to hide my shoulder from people. I had fulfilled what I wanted to do regarding swimming, and I was in a good place. Well, except for the whole Rin thing. But this stupid doctor shit is making it flare up bad again, and the Rin situation is not helping.”

“I’m sorry,” Makoto says. Sousuke shakes his head.

“Don’t apologize. It’s just another shitty thing I have to deal with. It’s all from this stupid shoulder. I never started having anxiety attacks until I busted it,” Sousuke says.

“When was the last time you had an anxiety attack? What do they feel like?” Makoto asks. “Sorry, I don’t mean to pry. I’m just curious.”

“No big deal,” Sousuke hums. He looks up at the ceiling as he thinks. “Uhh… I think the last time I had one was right before that relay at regionals last year. My shoulder was fucking up something fierce, and I was pretty sure Rin was on the cusp of figuring it out. I just… got out of the pool and sat down alone in the showers. Felt like I could barely breathe, dizzy as hell… and I could literally feel my shoulder pulsing with my heartbeat, if that’s possible. I kept imagining blood was squirting out of it and it just made the attack even worse.”

Makoto feels his heart ache for him, suddenly wishing he had been able to find Sousuke and somehow help him through it.

“That sounds terrible,” he says. Sousuke shrugs.

“Yeah, well. Whatever. I pretty much brought it on myself. I wouldn’t be in this situation if I hadn’t over-worked myself when I was a second-year,” Sousuke says. “I’m looking forward to this all being over with. But… ha… keep thinking about how they’re going to cut me open and pump me full of drugs I don’t know the name of and--”

Sousuke stops himself, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. Makoto scoots closer and, without thinking, wraps his arms gently around him. He’s careful to avoid Sousuke’s bad shoulder and instead scoops both arms underneath his. Sousuke hugs him back. The breath from his nose is erratic as it fans over Makoto’s neck. It tickles at his hairline a little, making him giggle.

“Don’t laugh,” Sousuke grunts. He tries to sound irritable but it fails miserably. Makoto just rubs his back.

“No- _oo_ , my neck is just ticklish,” Makoto chortles. Sousuke snorts and rubs his nose on Makoto’s neck.

“I should’ve known.”

Silence.

“Makoto? I wanted to ask you something.”

“Mm?”

Sousuke pulls away and looks at Makoto very seriously, his eyebrows knitted and his lips pulled into a frown.

“Do you…” Sousuke trails off. He gives Makoto a frustrated look. “…Do you think maybe, uh, you’d be willing to come with me?”

“To the surgery?” Makoto asks. Sousuke nods once.

“Yeah. My dad is going to be there, too,” he says somberly. The atmosphere shifts suddenly, and Makoto has a feeling that he’s being invited to see a very intimate and sensitive part of Sousuke’s life. “I’m allowed one other visitor. I want it to be you.”

“Is that even allowed? I don’t have any relation to you,” Makoto says. Sousuke’s frown deepens.

“I don’t care. I’m not going through with the surgery if you’re not there. We’ll figure it out. If you have to pretend to be my brother, so be it. I won’t have it any other way,” Sousuke says firmly. “And they’ll have to accept that. Dad will have to accept it, too.”

“Okay,” Makoto says. His voice cracks as he says it, his throat tight. “…Okay, I will.”

Sousuke relaxes.

“Thank you. Tomorrow I’ve gotta drop by the hospital to fill out some pre-op paperwork, but my dad will pick us up after the exam in anatomy on Wednesday.”

“Are you prepared for it?” Makoto asks worriedly. Sousuke smirks.

“The exam or the surgery?”

“Both!” Makoto laughs. Sousuke throws his hands up in an ‘ _I don’t know’_ gesture.

“We’ll see. Best I can do is prepare myself. Think we could get some coffee and study a bit?”

Makoto blinks and slowly smiles.

“I’d love to!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friend [Diana](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Important notice!
> 
> This chapter is very long, for a reason. I will also not be updating FEFSKY for about a half a week to a week in order to plan for the next chapter. You'll understand when you get to the end of the chapter: don't spoil yourself! I have been very much looking forward to releasing this chapter!!!

The exam on Wednesday is seventy-five multiple choice questions and relatively simple. A few questions are silly, easy things like ‘ _Kiki eats three strawberries and only has two left. How many strawberries did she have to start with?_ ’. Makoto assumes that the professor wanted little comic relief questions throughout the exam to calm everyone’s nerves.

Beside him, Sousuke’s belly keeps growling. Every time it happens, Sousuke sniffs loudly as if to muffle the sound of it, but Makoto can still clearly hear it. He glances over at Sousuke with a sympathetic look in his eyes. The poor guy has been fasting in preparation for his surgery since midnight the night before, and now it’s nearly two in the afternoon. He must be starving.

Makoto is one of the first people to finish his exam. He packs his things in his backpack, stands, and heads down to the front of the lecture hall to hand in his test packet and bubble sheet. On the way out, he gives Sousuke a smile for good luck and continues to the exit. Moments later, Sato emerges from the lecture hall and whines dramatically as she trudges toward Makoto.

“Tachibana-kuuuun,” she whimpers. She points at a set of bags under her eyes. “I was up _all night_ studying and it sucked so baaaad.”

“Sato-san, you’re not supposed to cram all night,” Makoto laughs. Sato pouts and crosses her arms.

“Studying is boring. I’d rather have fun all weekend and _then_ study.”

“You had Monday night, didn’t you?” Makoto asks. Sato gets even poutier.

“I thought you were on my side,” she grumbles. With a big sigh, she puts her hands on her hips and looks up at Makoto. “But never mind that! There’s an LGBTQ panel tonight in the auditorium at the library, you wanna go?”

“Can’t,” Makoto says. “Sousuke’s surgery is today, and he wants me to come with him.”

“Awww!” Sato coos. She clasps her hands together and looks up dreamily at Makoto. “Does poor Yamazaki-kun need his _boyfriend_ to hold his hand? _Poor_ widdle Yamazaki-kun.”

Makoto doesn’t have time to warn her and instead lifts his arms in surrender as a very irritated-looking Sousuke materializes out of nowhere and grabs Sato’s hair bun. He jostles her head around and Sato squeals, flailing her arms.

“Once again, you’re talking to this idiot too much, Makoto,” Sousuke grumps. He releases Sato’s bun, and she puffs up her cheeks as she reaches up to straighten it again. “And he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Right. Keep telling yourself that,” Sato scoffs. “Seriously, you two could be married with three kids and you’d _still_ say there’s nothing between the two of you. Just…”

Sato holds her hands apart for a second before mashing her fingertips together.

“…Get together already. Jeez. You two are more annoying than Hana and her boyfriend were. They spent so long just beating around the bush, it drove me _crazy_ ,” Sato says. Sousuke heaves a sigh while Makoto buries his blushing face in his hands.

“Whatever,” Sousuke says, looking away in embarrassment. Sato gives him a cheeky smile before stepping forward to hug him.

“Good luck today, Yamazaki-kun. I’ll be thinking of you,” she says. Sousuke pats the top of her head.

“Thanks.”

“I’ll see you two later, okay? Tachibana-kun, keep in touch. I want to know how the surgery goes,” Sato says, giving Makoto a farewell salute. Makoto waves as she leaves, then turns to Sousuke.

“I brought my phone charger like you said,” Makoto says. “Why’d you want me to bring it?”

“You’ll need it. It’s going to take a couple hours and you don’t want to be in the waiting room without any entertainment whatsoever. You’ll lose your mind. Did you bring headphones?” Sousuke asks. He brushes Makoto’s elbow and gestures for him to follow. Trotting behind Sousuke, Makoto feels around the pockets of his jeans.

“No, I left them at home,” he says sheepishly. “I was running a little late, so I forgot them.”

“You’re always running late if I don’t wake you up,” Sousuke scoffs.

“Well, we haven’t been going to aerobics recently, so I had time to sleep in!”

“Excuses, excuses,” Sousuke chides when they get on the elevator. He laughs at Makoto’s pout, but it sounds strained. When Sousuke looks down to dig in his pants pocket, Makoto can see a vein in his neck bulging. His whole body looks tense. Sousuke pulls his earbuds out of his pocket. “Here. You can use mine. Watch a movie on your phone or something.”

“Thank you,” Makoto says. As he reaches out to take the earbuds, Sousuke lightly brushes his palm. His fingertips are cold and clammy. Before Makoto can comment, the elevator doors open, and Sousuke stalks out into the hallway with his hands shoved in his pockets. Makoto jogs a little to catch up. They exit the building next to the parking lot.

“ _God_ ,” Sousuke groans, stopping so suddenly that Makoto nearly crashes into him.

“What is it?” Makoto asks. When Sousuke doesn’t answer, he follows his gaze to a sleek black car parked in a handicapped spot right outside the science building. The door opens, and a figure emerges.

He’s tall and lithe, a handsome man with sharp features and a lined, aged face. A pair of half-rimmed glasses sits on his nose. A bit of gray is sprinkled through his thick, black hair. He’s dressed in a black business suit, unbuttoned over a white dress shirt. A deep blue tie sits neatly on his chest.

“I told you not to park in the handicapped spot,” Sousuke hisses under his breath. He walks forward, pauses, and turns to beckon Makoto. “C’mon.”

Makoto hesitates. The man standing before him is ridiculously intimidating. He’s _definitely_ Sousuke’s father. They not only look alike, but they have the same icy, unrelenting stare. Fidgeting, Makoto steps forward.

“H-Hello,” he greets, bowing slightly. “I’m Tachibana Makoto, Sou-… Y-Yamazaki-kun’s friend.”

When he lifts his head, Sousuke’s father is still staring expressionlessly down at him. His eyes are a very dark shade of teal, nearly black. Makoto’s hairs stand on end as he straightens. He must’ve offended him or something.

The frown slowly becomes a smile, and the man’s eyes soften.

“Sousuke’s friend? I see. Yamazaki Iwao,” he greets. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Makoto.”

Relief washes over Makoto as he smiles up at Iwao, but the relief quickly fades when he glances over at Sousuke. He’s leaning against the car with his arms crossed and a terrifying scowl on his face. Makoto frowns as Sousuke glares at his father’s back.

“Let’s go,” Iwao says. “Hop in.”

Sousuke takes the front passenger seat while Makoto slides into the back seat. The seats are made of fancy leather, and the interior of the car smells faintly like it was recently cleaned.

“There’s a parking spot right there,” Sousuke points out as they leave. “You didn’t have to take the handicapped one. You’re not even supposed to.”

“You’ve been fasting, haven’t you? I assumed you were tired. I didn’t want to make you walk far, and I was only here for a few minutes, anyway,” Iwao explains.

“My legs work,” Sousuke snaps. He leans against his car door and stares out the window. Iwao sighs, turns his his attention back to the road, and goes silent.

“…I spoke to your mother recently. She was wondering how you’re doing with your studies,” Iwao tries after a moment. Sousuke doesn’t respond. “You should give her a call sometime. She worries about you.”

“If she wants to talk to me, she should just call me directly.”

“Sousuke,” Iwao says sternly. “Please consider her feelings more. She loves you very much.”

“Whatever.”

Makoto shifts uncomfortably in the backseat. The tension between the two men in the front seat is thick.

“Have you been going to aerobics every day?” Iwao asks.

“No.”

“Have you been taking your medication?”

Sousuke groans and slaps his hands over his face.

“ _Dad_.”

“Let me see the bottle.”

Sousuke huffs but leans down to dig through his backpack. He pulls out a little prescription bottle and hands it over. Iwao looks at it critically for a second and hands it back.

“You have been slacking on taking them. One in the morning, one at night. _That_ was the deal for your apartment, Sousuke,” Iwao says, tapping on the steering wheel with every word for emphasis. He glances over at his son. “I made my terms very clear.”

“I haven’t needed them,” Sousuke bites back. “Okay? I’m fine.”

“I don’t care,” Iwao says sharply. “You’ll take your medication, or I’m not paying for your apartment, and you _will_ be living with me. You’re not twenty yet, son, and you will continue to live by my rules so long as I am paying for your housing and hospital bills, do you hear me?”

Sousuke thumps his head against the window. From the backseat, Makoto wrings his hands. It’s so awkward to be here right now. He almost wishes he could dive out of the car to avoid this conflict.

“Answer me, Sousuke.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“What was that?”

“I _said_ yeah!”

Iwao shakes his head and heaves a sigh.

“I don’t know why you feel the need to talk to me like that,” Iwao says. He pulls into the  hospital parking lot. “I’m just concerned about your safety.”

“Wait, what are you doing?” Sousuke asks. Makoto sees his shoulders tense as Iwao pulls right up to the entrance.

“I’ll find a parking spot. You boys check in,” Iwao says. Sousuke’s nostrils flare as he whips his head towards his father.

“No way. Just find a parking spot now. We’ll all walk in together.”

“That was not a suggestion.”

“Ugh,” Sousuke groans, throwing off his seatbelt and kicking the door open. Makoto gets out of the car. He closes his door gently, not wanting to damage the pristine vehicle.

“Don’t slam my do--” Iwao begins. Sousuke slams his car door shut and stalks towards the entrance. Flustered, Makoto watches Iwao drive away before rushing to catch up to Sousuke.

“Bullshit,” Sousuke spits. He looks infuriated, so Makoto keeps a safe distance from him, not wanting to set him off. “Acts like I’m a god damn terminal cancer patient.”

Sousuke reaches out for the door with his right hand and jerks back too quickly. His arm instantly falters, and he doubles over with a pained yelp. Makoto rushes forward to his side, setting one hand on his back and the other on his chest to support him.

“Sousuke? Are you okay?” Makoto asks frantically. Sousuke straightens and shrugs Makoto off. He looks like he’s on the verge of tears as he clutches his upper arm just under his right shoulder.

“Fucking _useless_ ,” he hisses to himself before grabbing the door handle with his left hand and slipping inside. Makoto hears footsteps from behind and looks over his shoulder. Iwao walks up to the door, his lips pulled into a deep, troubled frown.

“Did he just hurt himself again?” he asks as he calmly opens the door for Makoto.

“Thank you. And um… I think he’s okay. Maybe he’s just hungry,” Makoto suggests weakly. Iwao does not look convinced.

“I see.”

The three of them check in to the hospital together. At the front desk, Sousuke has a few more sheets to fill out in addition to his current files, and Iwao is given a few to fill out as Sousuke’s legal guardian and insurance carrier. When everything is completed and signed, the secretary slips a bracelet through the hole at the bottom of the window and instructs Sousuke to put it on his left wrist. Makoto is the last one to step up to the window.

“Relation to patient?”

“Um…” Makoto trails off. He glances at Sousuke, who just looks on calmly.

“…Friend of the patient?” the secretary suggests, lifting an eyebrow as if it’s obvious. Makoto blinks and nods. The secretary slips two name tag stickers under the glass. “Write your full names on the name tags. You are required to wear them while visiting. Please take a seat. The nurse will arrive for you shortly.”

 _So it’s that easy?_ With a sigh of relief, Makoto hands a nametag to Iwao, and they stand next to each other to write their names. Makoto is so shaky that he messes up the first character of his name and has to cross it out and try again. Iwao, meanwhile, has the elegant handwriting of a professional.

The three of them find seats; Makoto and Sousuke side-by-side and Iwao sitting adjacent to them. Makoto looks around to distract himself from the tension between Iwao and Sousuke. The hospital isn’t too terribly busy given the time and the day of the week — only a few other patients are here.

“Makoto?” Sousuke suddenly asks. Makoto turns to face him as he holds out his left wrist and his bracelet. “Can you put it on?”

Makoto briefly wonders why Sousuke can’t put it on himself, but the moment his hand touches Sousuke’s, he knows why. He’s shaking hard. Makoto cups Sousuke’s cold, sweating left hand in his for a prolonged moment before looping the plastic bracelet around his wrist and snapping the button.

“Are you okay?” Makoto murmurs. He doesn’t let go of Sousuke’s hand, unaware of Iwao watching them from the corner of his eye.

“I don’t know,” Sousuke says. His pupils are blown wide, and he’s gripping the armrest of his seat hard with his right hand. “I think I’m going to have another attack.”

“Deep breaths,” Iwao instructs. Makoto looks over at Sousuke’s father, who looks on with a blank face. His chin is tilted slightly upwards as he looks down his nose at his son; a gesture that reminds Makoto of Sousuke. Sousuke holds his father’s gaze, glaring, but obeys him anyway.

“I know. I’m not… an idiot,” he says between shuddering breaths. Makoto can see his pulse fluttering along the bulging vein on his neck. He keeps shifting in his chair like he’s about to jump up and run a mile. Makoto has never witnessed anything like it. It’s as if Sousuke’s whole body is fighting against him. “God, this… is embarrassing.”

“It’s not embarrassing at _all_ ,” Makoto insists, shocked that Sousuke would say something like that. _This_ is what he’s been going through? It’s as if every single muscle is pulled taut against his bones. It’s terrifying to see his body like this, and Makoto can barely stand to watch. Sousuke, cool and calm and collected Sousuke, looks like he might just fall apart.

It passes in a little under fifteen minutes. Gradually, Sousuke’s breathing evens out and he’s able to relax against his chair. He lifts his quivering hands to his face to wipe the sweat gathered at his brow. He looks absolutely exhausted.

“Sorry,” he mutters.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Makoto says gently. He puts a hand on his thigh out of habit but snatches it away again when he sees that Iwao is looking. “I… I wish I had something to say.”

“Just drop it,” Sousuke grunts. “When is the damn nurse coming?”

As if on cue, the double doors at the other end of the waiting room swing open. A female nurse stands there with a clipboard in hand.

“Yamazaki Sousuke-san?”

“Finally. Makoto, you’re coming with me,” Sousuke says. He grabs Makoto’s wrist with his left hand and drags him out of his chair when he stands. Makoto stumbles after him, glancing worriedly back at Iwao. Iwao’s face is impassive, but his eyes remain locked on his son.

“W-Wait, is this allowed?”

“Don’t care.”

Sousuke marches right up to the nurse with Makoto at his side.

“He’s coming with me,” he announces. The nurse looks unperturbed.

“Sure thing. Yamazaki-san, Tachibana-san,” the nurse says, glancing briefly at Makoto’s nametag. She gestures for them to follow. “Right this way, please.”

They are led down a series of halls to a weight and height station, where Sousuke is quickly measured before they’re led to the pre-op room. It’s a small room, furnished with a wheeled cot, bedside table, sink and counter, and several stools and chairs. Sousuke takes one look at the medical supplies on the counter and looks away with a strained expression.

The nurse closes the door and sets her clipboard beside her laptop on the counter.

“Go ahead and take a seat, Yamazaki-san, I’m just going to ask a few questions,” she says. Sousuke takes a deep breath and hops up on the cot. Makoto takes a seat on a stool off to the side and rubs his hands together anxiously. It’s uncomfortably chilly in here. The nurse takes a seat in her office chair, crosses her legs, and angles her body towards her laptop. “Okay… any changes in overall health? Have you had a fever or illness in the past seven days?”

“No.”

“Have you been fasting for at least twelve hours prior to this moment?”

“Yes.”

“Good, good. It says here that you’ve been diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder and you’re taking medication for it. Is this correct, and have you been keeping on top of doses?”

“I’m on antidepressants, but I haven’t taken them in a while.”

The nurse turns to Sousuke, her face solemn.

“Have you suffered an anxiety or panic attack within the past seven days?” the nurse asks. “It’s very important that we know.”

“Yeah,” Sousuke says. The nurse nods, tacks away at her keyboard, and scrolls down again.

“Do you feel as though anxiety will in any way obstruct the procedure today?” the nurse asks. “If so, we will be required to delay the surgery in order to give you time to better psychologically prepare yourself.”

“No,” Sousuke blurts. “…No. It’ll just get worse if I put this off any more.”

“I understand. Last question, do you have any known allergies to medication or reactions to anesthesia that you know of?”

“No.”

“Excellent,” the nurse says. She stands. “I’m just going to take your temperature and blood pressure real quick, Yamazaki-san.”

Makoto watches as the nurse systematically runs tests on Sousuke. She puts a thermometer under his tongue and holds it there until it beeps. She records it quickly before moving on to check Sousuke’s blood pressure. Once that’s complete, she instructs Sousuke to take a few deep breaths while she monitors his heart rate with her stethoscope, sliding his shirt up as she moves the chestpiece over his torso.

“Excellent!” the nurse praises. She goes to a nearby cupboard and pulls out a folded hospital gown, which she hands to Sousuke. “The doctor will be here shortly. In the meantime, please undress and put this on.”

With that, the nurse bows and leaves, leaving Makoto and Sousuke alone. Sousuke stands from the hospital cot and looks down irritably at the gown in his hands.

“This sucks,” he says. He smacks the gown down on the cot and runs a hand through his hair. Makoto smiles at him sympathetically and walks over to him.

“You’re doing just fine,” Makoto reassures him. “It’ll be over soon.”

“I hope so,” Sousuke mutters. He’s quiet for a moment. “Hey, Makoto.”

“Mm?”

“This is probably stupid to ask, but could you kiss me, maybe?”

Makoto blinks and looks around the room, wondering if there’s a camera. There isn’t.

“The doctor could come in at any time,” he frets. Sousuke shrugs.

“They’ll knock. Just a small one. For good luck or something like that,” Sousuke tacks on the last part with a smirk, which makes Makoto smile.

“ _Good luck_ , you say?” he teases lightly. He comes closer and Sousuke loops his left arm around his waist and splays his fingers over his lower back. “Maybe just one.”

Makoto closes his eyes and waits patiently. It takes a moment for Sousuke’s lips to brush against his. They descend into easy, lazy kissing that slowly escalates into something more feverish. Makoto arches his body into Sousuke’s, hands cupping his face as he’s rendered breathless. When Sousuke pulls away, Makoto is glossy-eyed and his lips are slightly swollen.

“H-Hey… when you’re out of the hospital, can… we kiss some more?” Makoto asks. His voice trembles. Sousuke just laughs.

“Now that’s some incentive. I’ll take it,” he jokes. Looking significantly less anxious, he gives Makoto one last smooch on the side of the mouth before stepping away to undress. Makoto turns to give him some privacy. After a few moments, Sousuke groans, “Man, this is ridiculous.”

Makoto turns back towards Sousuke, who frowns down at his hospital gown. It _does_ look a little ridiculous on him, but Makoto can’t bring himself to laugh. They catch each other’s eyes and stare at each other for a long while.

“I feel pathetic, but can you button up the back for me?” Sousuke asks. Makoto nods silently and steps forward to help him. He snaps each button along the back and fastens the tie at the top. Sousuke flops down on his cot. Makoto picks up his clothes and folds them neatly beside him. “I could’ve done that, Makoto.”

“It’s okay.”

There’s a brief knock at the door before it opens, revealing an older woman with her hair in a tight bun and a pair of circular glasses on her nose. She closes the door and flashes a smile at Sousuke.

“Hello again, Yamazaki-san. How do you feel?”

“About as good as someone about to get cut open,” Sousuke drawls. The doctor laughs and tugs a black, translucent screen from her clipboard.

“Don’t you worry one bit, the procedure today will be quite easy. It’s the recovery part that you might not like,” the doctor says. She puts the black screen on a light board on the wall and flicks it on, revealing an MRI scan of both Sousuke’s right and left shoulders. Makoto can immediately tell which one is the damaged one.

“Wow,” Makoto murmurs before he can catch himself. Sousuke shoots him a look and Makoto shuts his mouth. The doctor gestures to the board.

“Alright, Yamazaki-san, this is what we’ll be repairing today, obviously. All we’re going to do is stitch up this tendon here. Then we’re going to go in with a little shaver and remove the spurs from the underside of your acromion.”

She moves her fingers along the MRI scan before stepping forward and tugging another piece of paper from her clipboard.

“I’ve also drawn you a simple diagram here,” she says. She hands it to Sousuke and leans in to point at her drawing. “Forgive me, I’m not an artist.”

She laughs. Sousuke laughs with her, but it’s very strained. He’s looking pale again. Makoto watches him carefully, looking for signs of another attack. However, he seems mostly in control of his body.

“This procedure will be very safe,” the doctor says reassuringly. She looks at Sousuke seriously over the rims of her glasses. “I will be leading your surgery today, Yamazaki-san, and I promise you everything will go smoothly. It will only take a few hours, tops. Afterwards you’ll be given morphine to ease the pain. You’ll feel like you’re floating.”

Sousuke glances down at the sheet of paper again, then looks back up and grimaces.

“You won’t be cutting anything else but my shoulder?”

It occurs to Makoto that Sousuke’s question is probably kind of silly, but the doctor doesn’t laugh. Instead, her face remains serious.

“We won’t cut a _single_ thing except your shoulder. We won’t be anywhere near your chest area, either,” the doctor says. “In fact, you’ll be lying face-down on the surgical table, Yamazaki-san, so we wouldn’t be able to get to your lungs even if we wanted to.”

_Lungs?_

Makoto looks over at Sousuke, but Sousuke’s eyes are trained on the doctor. His expression is also very somber, but he looks much more relaxed than before.

“Are you ready to proceed? Do you feel as though your anxiety will obstruct the procedure in any way?” the doctor asks. _That question again._ “Do you need me to explain it one more time?”

“I’m ready. I don’t need another explanation,” Sousuke says. His voice is firm, but Makoto can still hear a very slight tremble in it.

“Excellent! I assure you, Yamazaki-san, all of us are highly trained professionals. All of the surgeons and nurses who will be working on you have been alerted of your anxiety and will take _great_ care of you today,” the doctor says. Sousuke smiles weakly.

Feeling a bit relieved, Makoto stands from his stool and comes forward. The doctor smiles at him. “Unfortunately, your friend can’t come with you. The surgical room is sterile and cannot be entered by anyone besides the patient and the doctors.”

“I know,” Sousuke says. He doesn’t seem too upset—a good sign.

“Okay, then go ahead and lie down. I’ll grab a nurse and we’ll take you from there,” the doctor says. With that, she leaves. Sousuke holds his right arm against his body as he adjusts on the cot and lies back. Makoto puts a hand on his thigh.

“Will you be okay?” Makoto asks. Sousuke nods mutely. “Do you want me to hold your hand?”

He nods again. Makoto takes his left hand in his and holds it. It’s ice cold and clammy, trembling hard. Sousuke takes long, even breaths through his nose and exhales through his mouth over and over, his eyes trained on the clock.

“When this is over,” Sousuke begins. His voice is timid and wobbles like he’s going to cry. Makoto squeezes his hand. “Will you think differently of me?”

“What?”

“This isn’t… like me. I’m not like this. And you’re… seeing all of it,” he says. He bites his lower lip and his eyes start to shine. When he blinks, a tear falls from his eyelash and he sniffs loudly, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling. “Fuck. This is so stupid.”

“Listen,” Makoto says firmly. “You’re anxious, it’s making you emotional, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

He brushes the tear from Sousuke’s cheek.

“And I won’t think differently of you. I know when this is all over you’ll be back to being all broody. You’ll tease me and make me laugh, and I’ll still think you’re probably the most attractive and coolest guy on the planet. We can have a date after this, too. Maybe not at Tsukino’s, though. Nothing will change except this stupid shoulder that’s causing all these problems.”

Sousuke laughs and another tear falls. Sniffing, he nods and scrubs the dampness off his cheek with the heel of his hand.

“Yeah,” he says. “Okay.”

Makoto leans forward and rests his forehead against Sousuke’s, rubbing their noses together.

“I like you,” Makoto sighs. Sousuke exhales and his breath fans coolly over Makoto’s lips.

“I think I--”

There’s a quick knock at the door, and the doctor and two nurses enter. Makoto pulls away quickly, but he knows the doctor and nurse saw. Not to mention, both of his hands are still cradling Sousuke’s.

“Would you like another minute?” the doctor asks, coming to the foot of Sousuke’s bed and smiling at both of them. Makoto, blushing, tries to pull away, but Sousuke holds fast to his hand.

“I’m holding you to your promise,” Sousuke says. “Especially for the date.”

“ _Honestly_ , Sousuke,” Makoto groans while the nurses giggle. Sousuke finally releases him, fingertips lingering before his arm drops back down to the bed.

“I’m ready,” he announces. One nurse takes her position at his side while the doctor unlatches the locks on the wheels. Once his cot is mobile, they wheel Sousuke of the room. The remaining nurse gestures for Makoto to follow her.

“I’m going to take you to the waiting room in the surgery ward. It’s much quieter, and there’s free coffee and tea,” the nurse explains. “Yamazaki-san’s father is already there, waiting.”

“Okay,” Makoto says. Worry bubbles in the pit of his stomach as he’s led out of the pre-op room and down the hall—he’s going to be alone with Sousuke’s father.

The nurse takes him through another set of double doors to a tidy, carpeted room with sofas and pillows and soft-looking chairs. A middle-aged woman is reading a book with a small child asleep in her lap and, sitting on a sofa with his legs crossed and his face turned towards the window, is Iwao. He looks like he’s deep in thought as he taps his hand rhythmically against his thigh.

When Makoto comes closer, Iwao turns to face him. He looks exhausted.

“Welcome back, Makoto. Did everything go well?” Iwao asks. Nodding, Makoto takes a seat in an armchair.

“Yeah. He was pretty nervous, but the doctor helped calm him down,” Makoto explains. Iwao nods slowly and peers off blankly into the distance, pondering.

“Good, good.”

Awkward silence ensues. Fidgeting, Makoto wonders if it would be rude to take his phone out right now.

“Did they make sure to tell him they weren’t going to touch his lungs?”

Makoto furrows his brow in confusion. _Lungs again._ He catches Iwao’s eyes, and they’re so piercing he’s forced to look away.

“Yeah, they mentioned something like that,” Makoto says. Iwao sighs heavily through his nose and sits back on the couch. “Iwao-san, I’m sorry for prying, but why is that so important?”

“…Mm. You seem pretty close to Sousuke, so I don’t think he’d mind if I told you,” Iwao hums thoughtfully. “He has recurring nightmares about being cut open and his lungs being taken out. I apologize for the gruesome image, but it has been plaguing him for years. He seems to think that the doctors will ‘turn on him and pin his lungs to the operating table with a scalpel’, in his own words. He says that the surgeons in his nightmares are often his friends, his mother, or me. It may seem ridiculous to you, but it is very real to him. An irrational fear-concocted scenario brought on by his own anxiety. As irony would have it, those dreams of his make his anxiety even worse. It’s a vicious cycle.”

“I don’t think that’s ridiculous at all. It’s terrifying,” Makoto admits. He swallows the bile that has risen in his throat. “I had no idea Sousuke was ever feeling any of this.”

“He hides it well. Unfortunately it makes him irritable and often very difficult to get along with. However, he seems to have opened up to you at the very least. I don’t know the nature of your relationship with him, but I’m relieved he has found someone he trusts enough to bring into the doctor’s office,” Iwao says. His tone of voice and the look in his eye tells Makoto that he knows much more than he’s letting on, which makes Makoto’s body break out in a cold sweat. “Speaking of which. Makoto, what is your relationship to my son?”

Makoto opens and closes his mouth like a fish. He can’t look Iwao in the eye. His gaze is so much more intense than Sousuke’s. It’s unyielding to Makoto’s attempts to fidget his way out of such an uncomfortable topic.

“Um… we’re friends,” he whispers.

“Friends?”

“Y-Yes.”

Iwao leans forward, face emotionless, and finally catches Makoto’s eye. Makoto can’t look away.

“You are a terrible liar,” he says simply. He sets his suit coat aside and stands. “Would you like some coffee or tea?”

“N-n-no thank you,” Makoto stammers. He folds his hands tightly in his lap as Iwao walks to the beverage station. Head spinning, he desperately attempts to compose himself. There’s absolutely no way he can get out of this one. He prays frantically in his head: please don’t let Iwao-san be unsupportive. Please don’t let Iwao-san be unsupportive. _Please don’t let Iwao-san be unsupportive._

A hand touches his shoulder, and Makoto nearly jumps out of his skin. Iwao seats himself back on the sofa with a Styrofoam cup of tea in hand.

“No need to be so nervous. I am not one to care about trivial things such as whether my son falls in love with a man or a woman. What matters to me is that he makes the right financial decisions in his life,” Iwao says. He sips his tea, shutting his eyes. When he lowers the cup, he makes a face. “…Ah, so watery. Anyway, we live in a progressive world. I am a progressive man. Forward is the only direction to walk. Whether a man or woman is gay or straight, what matters is their ability to lead and to work.”

“Oh,” Makoto says. He breathes out long and slow, immensely relieved.

“I’m concerned for my son’s future,” Iwao says. “I believe he is wasting his time by pursuing this desire to be a physical therapist. Not only do I think that it won’t be rewarding for him financially, but it is not the answer he is seeking. He wants to be a physical therapist to somehow ‘atone’ for his mistakes that he made when he was fifteen. I, on the other hand, am hiring for a secretarial position in my company and can guarantee him a well-paying job with full benefits. A job like that at eighteen years old would be immensely beneficial to his future. I want him to take the opportunity now and _work_. But he resists me at every turn.”

Makoto stares. Sousuke’s father doesn’t want Sousuke to be a physical therapist. All at once, he understands the resentment Sousuke feels towards his father. Up until now, he thought Sousuke was just being petulant.

“Don’t misunderstand. I love my son,” Iwao says quietly. “He is my pride and joy. I don’t want him to hurt, and I don’t want him to struggle any more than he already has in his life. I would do anything to make him understand this, but… well, you witnessed just how strained our relationship is. I try to reach him; he just gets angrier. I believe he still holds bitter feelings towards my ex-wife and I because of the divorce. It happened around the time his friend Rin left, so… I’m sure it didn’t help much.”

“I see,” Makoto says. There isn’t much more to say. He could probably try to explain how Sousuke hates being treated like he’s handicapped. He could probably tell Iwao how passionate Sousuke is about physical therapy and what it means to him. But such comments feel out of place, so his words remained locked up behind closed lips.

“Please take care of him,” Iwao says. He smiles faintly. “You can obviously communicate better with him than I can. Perhaps you could convince him to drop out and start a career early in my company.”

“I wouldn’t--” Makoto begins, waving his hands. However, his phone begins to vibrate in his pocket. Stopping to fish it out, Makoto looks at the caller ID and his eyes widen.

It’s Rin.

“Um… I have to take this,” Makoto says apologetically. Iwao nods once, and Makoto gets up to slip out of the waiting room and into an empty hall.

“ _Where the hell is Sousuke?_ ” Rin asks before Makoto even has a chance to bring the phone to his ear. “ _I probably called him forty times. I wanted to talk to him, but he’s being an ass_.”

“Um… don’t freak out, Rin, but Sousuke’s in surgery right now.”

“ _WHAT?!_ ” Rin barks. Makoto jerks the phone away from his ear, flinching at the volume of his voice.

“He’s getting his shoulder repaired!” Makoto exclaims. “He didn’t tell you?”

“ _Of course he didn’t fucking tell me!_ ” Rin yells. “ _When was this decided? Is he okay? I thought he was scared of hospitals!”_

“He made the decision to go through with the surgery a few weeks ago. He’s okay. Last time I saw him, it was right before he was taken to the operating room,” Makoto explains quickly. He hears Rin curse on the other line. “He’s just really nervous, if anything.”

“ _Jeez_ ,” Rin groans. “ _Unbelievable, that guy. He didn’t tell me shit_.”

“In his defense, you two had been fighting, and he didn’t know when to bring it up,” Makoto points out.

 _“I wanted to talk to him about the fight_ ,” Rin says. “ _…And apologize for dismissing his feelings about doing what he wants with his life. Ha… normally we’d just race over this and make up that way. But… I don’t see that happening any time in the future. I don’t like it that he’s doing physical therapy to feel better about what he did to his own shoulder, but if it’s what he wants, I’m not going to stop him. But now… god damn it.”_

Rin lets out a shaky huff. Makoto wonders if he’ll cry.

“He’ll be just fine,” he says. “I’ll make sure I tell him that you called when he wakes up.”.

_“Hey… Makoto. What’s your relationship to Sousuke? I thought you guys never actually spoke.”_

“He was in one of my classes,” Makoto says. He hopes Rin can’t hear his pounding heart through the phone. “We’re friends.”

Well, it’s not a _lie_.

_“I see. Uh… do you like him? Sorry if that’s a weird question.”_

Makoto swallows and looks down at the floor. He cradles the phone to his ear with both hands.

“…Yes,” he whispers. “I like him a lot, and… um, he feels the same, I think. I’m sorry.”

Rin lets out a long sigh on the other end.

_“Didn’t know he swung that way. Kinda had suspicions about you, but I was never sure. I thought you’d end up with Haru, even though he doesn’t like sex or whatever his deal is.”_

“Um…”

 _“Just make sure he actually rests that shoulder, alright? This is my best friend we’re talking about!”_ Rin demands. Makoto nods vigorously.

“Yes!”

_“…Alright. Yeah, tell him I called, okay?”_

“I will.”

_“I gotta go. Talk to you later, Makoto.”_

“Okay, bye.”

_“Bye.”_

Rin hangs up and Makoto lowers his phone. Adrenaline pulses through his body as he stares at the screen. Rin didn’t sound very happy about the news. Makoto prays it won’t become a _situation_ later, but he has a sneaking suspicion that it will.

Back in the waiting room, Iwao has opened his briefcase and is paging through some official-looking documents. Not wanting to disturb him, Makoto sits silently in his armchair. He glances at the wall clock. It has only been about a half hour since Sousuke’s surgery began. Biting his lip, Makoto pulls out his phone and his charger and prepares to wait.

\---

Three hours later, Makoto jumps awake to the sound of his name being called. He sits up abruptly, looking around with bleary eyes and a crick in his neck.

“Makoto,” Iwao says again.

“Wha--”

“Sousuke’s in recovery,” he says. “The doctor wants to talk to us now.”

Makoto finally looks up and notices the doctor standing there, looking tired but pleased. She bows slightly to both of them.

“The operation was a success,” she says. “He was a little nervous at first, and it took a few tries for him to let us put him under. We tried convincing him to delay the surgery, but he insisted on continuing. We were able to calm him down and apply the anesthetic. His oxygen saturation _did_ drop a little under the desired percentage, however, so he’s receiving oxygen directly right now. That just means there was a little dip in the oxygen in his blood. Very common, don’t you worry. He’s ready for visitors, if you’d like to see him. But… he is a little… mmm, loopy, for a lack of a better term. He’s been given morphine for the pain, and he’s still a little woozy from the anesthesia.”

Iwao stands and holds his hand out to the doctor.

“Thank you very much for caring for my son,” he says, shaking her hand. Makoto stands and bows.

“Thank you very much,” he echoes. The doctor just laughs.

“Of course! Would you like to see him?”

“Yes.” “Yeah!” Iwao and Makoto say simultaneously. The doctor beckons them.

“Right this way.”

She leads them down the hall to a post-op room. The curtains are pulled shut and the light is comfortably dim. Makoto can just barely see the foot of Sousuke’s bed from around the corner. He tries his absolute hardest not to shove past the doctor and instead patiently walks behind Iwao into the room.

Sousuke lies in the center of the bed, his eyes closed and head lolled to the side. There are two oxygen tubes coming out of his nose. An IV is connected to the back of his hand, and his right arm is tightly secured in a dark blue sling that wraps all the way around his waist.

Beside Makoto, Iwao makes a strained noise in the back of his throat. When Makoto looks at him, his eyes are scrunched up, and his jaw is set. It’s almost like he’s in pain just from looking at his son. He takes three long strides to the bedside.

“Sousuke?” he asks. Sousuke stirs.

“I’ll leave you be. Just be gentle, he’s in a lot of pain right now,” the doctor murmurs to Makoto. He nods dumbly, barely registering the words as his eyes remain transfixed on Sousuke’s face.

Sousuke mumbles something unintelligible as one eye opens, followed by the other. He looks at the ceiling for a second, then slowly looks over at Iwao. He opens his mouth as if he’s going to say something, shuts it again, and closes his eyes.

“…S’done already?” Sousuke slurs. Iwao pulls up a nearby chair and scoots close to Sousuke’s bedside. He puts a hand on his left shoulder, squeezing lightly.

“Yes. It’s all done.”

“Coooool,” Sousuke coos. The word slides out of his mouth as if moving his lips takes too much effort. His eyes open again, and he winces. “Nn. Hurts.”

“It’s going to hurt for a while,” Iwao says. He strokes some hair away from Sousuke’s forehead and smiles down at him. Makoto looks on in silence and can’t help but feel a little jealous. He wants to comfort Sousuke, too. Shifting from foot to foot, Makoto fidgets.

“Where… is my arm…?” Sousuke babbles. He wriggles and whines. Iwao moves his hand to his chest to restrain him.

“It’s in a sling. Don’t move it.”

“Ssss… sling.”

“That’s right. You got your shoulder fixed, and now it’s in a sling.”

“But… why can’t I move it?”

“Because it’s in a sling.”

“Why?”

Iwao laughs. Makoto can’t help but giggle, too. Sousuke looks frustrated at this, and he glares at no one in particular.

“It’s in a sling because you had surgery, Sousuke,” Iwao says.

“Ohh. Mm’kay.”

“Would you like to say hi to your friend now? Makoto?”

“Makoto? Where?” Sousuke asks, peering around and blinking blearily. Makoto perks up, anxiously tapping his fingers together as he takes a few steps closer. Sousuke’s eyes rest on his, and his lips lift into a dopey smile. “Yooooo.”

He lifts his left hand to wave, notices the IV in the back of his hand, and stares hard at it. Iwao just chuckles and stands. Pushing Sousuke’s hair back, he leans down to kiss his forehead.

“He’s all yours. I’m going to get some water,” he says quietly. Makoto nods and takes Iwao’s chair as he leaves. Sousuke loses focus on his hand and lets it flop back down to the bed. He turns his head towards Makoto.

“Mmmm,” Sousuke hums. His eyes become even droopier than usual and he smiles. “Maaa-koooo-to.”

“That’s me,” Makoto says. He sets a hand on Sousuke’s arm and rubs. “How’re you feeling?”

“Nn. Weird.”

“They said they gave you morphine,” Makoto says. He sets his elbow on the cot and rests his chin in his palm. He continues to rub Sousuke’s arm up and down, gazing fondly at him. “It’s making you a little loopy.”

“No,” Sousuke denies, shaking his head slowly back and forth. “No. I’m fiiiine.”

Makoto giggles and scoots his chair even closer.

“Sorry. Yes, you’re fine,” Makoto says softly. He moves his chair closer still and bumps his knees against the bed. Giving up, he stands from his chair and leans over Sousuke. He cups his cheek in his hand, careful to avoid the nose prongs, and presses his lips to his temple. He leaves a lingering kiss there, then kisses his way down to Sousuke’s ear and whispers into it. “You’re cute.”

He kisses Sousuke’s ear and pulls away. Sousuke’s eyes are shut again, and there’s a dazed smile on his face. Makoto sits back down.

“Hey,” Sousuke says. He clears his throat, or at least tries to, and only manages to make a weird grunting noise. He opens his eyes and scowls hard at his bedsheets. “Makoto.”

“Yes?”

Sousuke scrunches up his face as if concentrating hard.

“Wait. I’m trying to…” Sousuke struggles. The crease on his forehead deepens as he focuses with all his might. “Makoto, I’m…”

“You don’t have to talk,” Makoto says gently. He settles a hand on Sousuke’s wrist, but Sousuke bats him away.

“No! Makoto, I tried to… before the surgery. I wanted to say something,” he says. “But, the doctor…”

“Before the surgery? What did you want to say?” Makoto asks to help him along. Sousuke swallows and nods a couple times to himself. He briefly loses focus as he spots the IV bag hanging off to the side. “Sousuke?”

He blinks and looks back at Makoto.

“I wanted to tell you something,” he repeats. Makoto smiles and playfully rolls his eyes.

“It can wait until you’re feeling a little better,” he tries. Iwao walks back into the room and shuts the door quietly before bringing a water bottle to Makoto. Sousuke shakes his head vehemently, looks up at his father, and returns his half-lidded gaze to Makoto.

“No. I wanted to say something. I wanted you… to know that I like you, too.”

Makoto’s eyes widen. Sousuke looks satisfied and plows on, still struggling to focus completely on what he’s trying to say.

“I like you too. And I want… to be your girlfriend… wait,” Sousuke says. Makoto, flushing furiously, bursts into laughter. Behind him, Iwao gives a low chuckle. “No, I meant… no, I’m seriously…”

“Sousuke. Enough,” Makoto says. His throat feels a little tight, but the smile on his face couldn’t be wider. “I understand what you’re trying to say. I feel the same.”

“…Really?” Sousuke asks. His head flops down onto the pillow. “I’m glad.”

Makoto brings his hand to Sousuke’s cheek, stroking his warm skin with the backs of his knuckles. Sousuke blinks slowly once, twice, three times before his eyes stay shut.

“Sousuke?” Makoto whispers. Sousuke doesn’t respond as his breathing deepens.

“We should let him rest,” Iwao says. “I’ll see if I can find a nurse so we can wrap things up and finish any paperwork.”

“Okay,” Makoto says. He stands, reluctant to leave Sousuke’s side. Iwao puts his hand on his shoulder.

“Thank you for coming today. I know he needed you here.”

“Of course,” Makoto says. His voice sounds thick and his eyes start to sting.

“Are you alright, Makoto?”

“Yeah,” Makoto says. He sniffs and wipes at nonexistent tears. Even though he wants to cry, the tears won’t come. “I’m happy. Even though that confession was kinda silly.”

Iwao pats his back and nudges him gently away from the bed. On the way out, he turns off the lights.

“Don’t worry. He wouldn’t have said it if he didn’t mean it.”

**END OF PART ONE**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friends [Diana](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com) and [Codango](https://codango.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, lovelies.

**INTERMISSION ONE**

**JUNE, 2014**

Sousuke remains in the hospital for the last six days of June, on and off morphine. He’s asleep most of the time he’s on morphine. It’s the only time he stops complaining about the ache in his shoulder for more than five minutes. Makoto visits every day; the subway line to get to the hospital is one of the free ones provided by his student ID. On the second day, Makoto brings Sousuke’s laptop so he can study anything he’s missing during his week in the hospital, much to Sousuke’s chagrin.

The doctors tell him he’ll need to use the shoulder sling for several months, perhaps longer if it’s particularly painful. It turns out that open shoulder surgery is at high risk for infection, so he is given antibiotics that make him nauseous. Luckily, given his physical fitness, the doctors tell him that he will most likely recover without any complications. He also gets a new prescription for his anxiety that he immediately doesn’t like, but his father doesn’t allow for any slacking off this time.

Stretching begins at his wrist. For fifteen minutes every few hours, Makoto helps Sousuke out of his sling and gently holds his forearm as he rolls his wrist. A few days later, Sousuke gets permission to very cautiously move his arm back and forth at the elbow. His frustration is obvious. He can’t stand not being able to move or touch his shoulder at all. Every time the sling goes back on, Makoto feels like a part of Sousuke is withering.

Rin’s constant calling helps. He and Sousuke have a long conversation about their friendship that inevitably ends in tears (at least from Rin), and things seem to be patched up for the time being. After that, it’s back to regular bickering over the phone that usually concludes with Rin barking and Sousuke snickering.

On the thirtieth of June, Makoto celebrates Haru’s birthday with their friends over Skype, but he can’t bring himself to spend a single minute not thinking of Sousuke alone during his last night in the hospital.

 

**JULY, 2014**

“Hey, Sousuke?”

They’re sitting on the bed in Sousuke’s bedroom on a hot July afternoon, an oscillating fan right beside them. Every time the breeze passes them, the pages of the textbooks and notebooks around them flutter. They’re dressed lightly; basketball shorts and tank-tops (Makoto borrowed some of Sousuke’s clothes) to ward off the heat.

“Mm?” Sousuke hums. A spoon sticks out of his mouth. Makoto reaches over to take it and dips it into a bowl of miso soup on the bedside table. Next to the soup are some spring rolls Haru made. Makoto doesn’t plan to tell Haru he’s sharing them with Sousuke, and he won’t tell Sousuke that Haru made them. Sousuke swallows and glances up. “What is it?”

“I wanted to ask about something that happened in the hospital last month,” Makoto begins. He blushes and scratches his cheek. He feels Sousuke’s eyes burning into him and he squirms.

“Yeah?”

“Okay… well, when you woke up from anesthesia, you said some stuff,” Makoto says hesitantly. Sousuke grunts as Makoto scoops up another spoonful of miso soup. “And I wanted to ask about it. Open up.”

Sousuke opens his mouth and lets Makoto feed him. Sousuke’s excuse is that he can’t properly eat with one immobilized arm. Makoto thinks he just likes the attention.

“Ask away,” Sousuke drawls. “Yo, can I have one of those spring rolls?”

“Mhm,” Makoto says. He feeds Sousuke a bite of a springroll, watching his thin lips wrap around it. He’s overcome with an urge to kiss him, so he leans forward. The moment the spring roll is pulled away, Makoto replaces it with his lips. He tastes shrimp and cucumbers along with the slight saltiness of the soup.

“Mm,” Sousuke hums in approval, grinning. “Let’s take a break from studying, yeah?”

“I still need to ask you something,” Makoto insists. Sousuke rolls his eyes playfully.

“Well, spit it out!”

“When… when you were in the hospital, you told me that… um… you said that you… l-liked me,” Makoto stammers. Sousuke stares at him, a very small blush beginning to show just under his eyes.

“I said that?” he asks. Makoto nods. “That… kinda rings a bell?”

“And you accidentally said you wanted to be my girlfriend. Instead of boyfriend,” Makoto continues. Sousuke grimaces, covers his eyes with his left hand, and groans.

“Shit. I definitely remember that part.”

“W-Well? It’s been a few weeks,” Makoto says. “I’ve been waiting so patiently.”

Makoto anxiously waits for Sousuke to put his hand down, but he doesn’t. Impatience takes over and he tugs at Sousuke’s arm.

“ _Sousuke_ ,” he mewls. Sousuke removes his hand and gives Makoto a bit of a half-hearted scowl, still looking embarrassed.

“I… wanted to say something about it, I guess, but I couldn’t find the right time. Um… you want to make things official or something?” Sousuke asks. Makoto nods and shuffles closer on his knees, knocking the notebooks and textbooks off the bed. He boldly straddles Sousuke’s lap, cupping his face in his hands. Sousuke smirks. “I get that you’re trying to be cool, here, but your blush gives it away.”

Makoto slaps his hands over his face, wishing he had an extra set to cover his burning ears. Laughing lowly, Sousuke loops his left arm around Makoto’s hips and presses his fingers against the small of his back. Sighing, Makoto uncovers his face and winds his arms around Sousuke’s neck.

“I want it to be official,” Makoto whispers. The blush deepens, travelling down his chest. “Can we just call ourselves boyfriends now?”

“Mm? Yeah? That’s what you want?” Sousuke asks, promptly lowering his face to Makoto’s collarbone and sliding his lips against it. With a shiver, Makoto nods clumsily.

“Yeah,” he breathes. Sousuke kisses along the sharp edge of his bone to his neck, where he very gently nips his heated flesh. Makoto jumps and bites back a moan, trying not to lose his cool. He feels disappointed when Sousuke pulls away and looks down at him with dazed eyes. “Why’d you stop?”

“Look, Makoto. I really do like you,” Sousuke begins. Makoto’s heart starts to drop, and Sousuke is quick to pick it up. “Let me finish before you start getting upset. I like you a lot. And I want to… date you. Be your boyfriend and all that stuff. But I don’t know if I’m ready to say I’m gay.”

Makoto blinks as Sousuke shifts and lies down on his back, his legs stretched out. He adjusts his arm sling so it sits comfortably on his chest, then settles his left hand behind his head. Makoto looks down at him, hands braced just below his ribs as he continues to sit on him. Feeling uncomfortable, he starts to move to get off, but Sousuke nudges his back with his knee.

“Don’t move. I like looking at you,” Sousuke murmurs. Blushing, Makoto squirms. Sousuke winces. “Okay, maybe don’t do that!”

He reminds Makoto that he’s nearly sitting on something very delicate by giving a small cant of his hips. Mortified, Makoto freezes. Sousuke gives a dramatic roll of his eyes.

“Like… do I have to be the same sexuality to date you?” Sousuke asks skeptically. “Is that some sort of inherent _rule_ of dating?”

“You don’t have to be gay!” Makoto exclaims. “I told you there are lots of other ones. And ‘questioning’ is a sexuality, too, you know. Like a temporary one before you know who you are.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” Sousuke huffs. “But it’s just you. It’s not any guy who looks like you. Well, you’re hot, I won’t lie about that.”

He smirks as Makoto groans and hides his face.

“But… I also really like girls?” Sousuke guesses. He scrunches his eyebrows, frustrated. “And I don’t want to take my posters down.”

“Then maybe you’re bisexual,” Makoto supplies. He sets his hands down on Sousuke’s chest. Sousuke slides his hand out from under his head and settles it on top of Makoto’s fingers.

“Yeah? You think so?” he asks softly. Makoto shivers. His voice is so beautiful.

“Yeah,” Makoto whispers. Lowering himself down on top of Sousuke, he plants his elbows on either side of his head and is careful not to put too much weight on his right arm. “Is it okay if I lay here like this?”

“Mhm. It’s fine,” Sousuke says. He angles his chin upwards and gives Makoto’s lips a quick peck. “Makoto.”

He lifts his hand up to Makoto’s face and slips his glasses off. Grinning, he strokes a lock of hair back behind his ear.

“Will you be my boyfriend? Even though I’m _totally_ not gay,” he jokes. Makoto chortles and nuzzles against his hand before planting a kiss to his palm.

“Yes,” he says. Sousuke’s eyes soften.

“Awesome.”

 

**AUGUST, 2014**

Makoto’s phone goes off in his pocket while he’s carrying a box of product out of the coolers and onto the floor.

“Shoot,” he mutters, setting the box down on a nearby shelf. He wipes the sweat from his brow and pulls out his phone.

_[Hurry up and come back to Tokyo.]_

Makoto smiles at the text from Sousuke, cradling his phone in his hands. Adjusting the visor on his head _(Iwatobi Market!)_ , Makoto taps out a response.

 _[I can’t!_  :)  _Izumi-san doesn’t have me scheduled for a day off until next week, and I already promised Ran and Ren I’d bring them to the carnival.]_

_[Don’t care. Tokyo. Shoulder hurts.]_

_[I’m coming back a few days before the next semester starts, I promise.]_

_[Too long. Now. Miss you so fucking much.]_

_[Sousuke. <3]_

The next text from Sousuke is a picture of his right arm without the sling on. Makoto gasps.

 _[The doctor said you have to keep it on!!!!!]_ Makoto scolds, hoping the copious exclamation points sound demanding enough.

_[Just stretching it. Annoying to text with only one hand.]_

_[You’re only allowed to stretch it for 15 minutes every few hours!!!! :(_ _!!!]_

_[Worried about me?]_

_[Yes!!!]_

The next picture is Sousuke’s middle finger, specifically the middle finger of his right hand. His muscles of his right arm have deflated so much it looks comical, but there’s only so much physical therapy Sousuke can do during his recovery.

Makoto is just about to take a picture of himself to get Sousuke back, but one of his coworkers appears from around the corner and points at him.

“You! Where have you been?! I asked you to get that product fifteen minutes ago!” he barks. Makoto squeals, nearly dropping his phone as he scrambles to grab his box.

“Sorry, Hiroaki-san!”

 

**SEPTEMBER, 2014**

“I know you said not to get you anything, but…”

“Makoto, seriously.”

Sousuke frowns as Makoto slides a little black box across the table in Sousuke’s apartment. They’ve just finished dinner and are sitting in the dim light of the living room (Sousuke had thrown a sheet over the lamp in the corner to fit the ‘mood’).

Nearby, Sousuke’s sling lies discarded on the floor. He’s been stretching his arm all during dinner and has even been making some very gentle shoulder movements on his own. Up until today, he’s only moved the shoulder joint with the help of physical therapists. He still can’t put serious weight on it or lift anything heavy, but it’s slowly but surely regaining strength.

“I know you said not to! And I’m sorry. But I saw it, and I had to get it for you,” Makoto says. “Please just take it.”

“I knew you wouldn’t listen to me,” Sousuke grumbles. Makoto gives him a sad look, and he promptly clears his throat. “But thank you for thinking of me. Seriously.”

As he starts pulling the lacy white ribbon to open the box, Makoto crawls around the table to Sousuke’s side. Hand rubbing his back, Makoto giddily waits for his present to be revealed.

“I _wanted_ to get you dog tags,” Makoto blurts before the box is even open, incapable of holding it back. Sousuke pulls away the lid, revealing a circular silver pendant with a symbol engraved and painted on the front. Sousuke lifts the cord from the box, letting the pendant hang in front of him. “Yeah, but Sato-san said dog tags are super boring and overdone, so she showed me this website and we looked at pendants and symbols that… that symbolize healing.”

Suddenly shy, Makoto turns his blushing face away and puts his hands between his thighs.

“Oh, but if you don’t like it, we can return--”

“No,” Sousuke interrupts. “Can you put it on for me?”

“S-Sure,” Makoto stammers. He scoots closer and takes the pendant from Sousuke’s hand. As Sousuke cranes his head forward, Makoto undoes the metal clasp and slips the necklace around his neck. He smooths it down so it rests nicely on his sternum. Makoto exhales shakily. “It looks just as beautiful on you as I imagined.”

“You put a lot of thought into this,” Sousuke murmurs. “I hope it didn’t drain your wallet.”

“Oh, not at all, it was only seven thousand ye--” Makoto babbles. Sousuke hooks his hand on Makoto’s neck and kisses him before he can finish. His kiss has Makoto hot and flustered within moments, but as soon as he’s there, he’s gone again. His left hand remains cupped on Makoto’s neck, his thumb pressing gently against his adam’s apple.

“I love it,” Sousuke says. Makoto nods, lost somewhere between pleasure and oblivion. He desperately wants another kiss, but Sousuke releases his neck and grabs his pendant to take another look at it. “What is this symbol? I think I’ve seen it before.”

“Sato-san said it’s ‘caduceus’, and sometimes part of the symbol is on ambulances,” Makoto says. He swallows and tries to shove aside all of the dirty thoughts swimming in his head. “It’s Greek. It’s supposed to be the wand carried by, um… Hermes, I think.”

“Are those snakes?” Sousuke asks, laughing a little as he tilts his head. Makoto grins.

“The things twisting up the wand? Yeah. And then there are wings at the top, too.”

“I see that. This thing is awesome as hell. Thank you,” Sousuke repeats, looking up at Makoto with a smile. If Makoto had a tail, it’d be wagging. He bounces a little closer to Sousuke, hoping he’ll maybe kiss him again. “What is it?”

“Um… I was thinking that we didn’t have to stop there,” Makoto laughs nervously. “I-I mean… well, your birthday isn’t over.”

Sousuke cocks an eyebrow, and Makoto flails.

“I-I-I’m just saying, um… well, that is--”

“Are you saying _you’re_ one of my presents?” Sousuke teases. Makoto’s face bursts into flame, and he can’t help the whine that escapes him. “Hungry for kisses?”

“A little,” Makoto admits. Sousuke chortles and, holding his right arm against his body, comes forward. He crowds Makoto until he falls back on his butt. Sousuke gently pushes him onto his elbows and finally onto his back on the floor. Heart racing, Makoto grips the front of Sousuke’s shirt. “W-Wait, just kisses right?”

“Wow. Your mind really is in the gutter,” Sousuke snickers. Makoto squeezes his eyes shut. He can’t take any more of this embarrassment. “Yeah, just kisses. But… I’m going to do something a little different, alright? Just follow my lead.”

Makoto bobs his head up and down vigorously, refusing to open his eyes. Beside him, Sousuke shifts so he’s lying on his side with his left arm propping up his head.

Expecting to feel lips, Makoto jumps when he feels the warm wetness of Sousuke’s tongue gliding along his bottom lip. His hotter kisses usually end like this, not begin with it. Makoto’s eyes flutter open and Sousuke pulls away.

“Is that okay?” he asks. Makoto blinks.

“U-Um… licking me?”

Sousuke rolls his eyes.

“No, idiot. I want to… y’know, make out.”

“…Huh?”

“Dude, you’re a college guy with a dorm room completely to _yourself_ ,” Sousuke states incredulously. “And you really don’t know what making out is?”

“I know what making out is!” Makoto exclaims. “I’m just surprised that…”

“You’re not the only one here who wants kisses,” Sousuke drawls. “Jeez. I want to shove my tongue in your mouth every single time you pout your lips at me. Hell, I want to whenever you’re just wearing your _glasses_.”

“Oh my god, _stop_ ,” Makoto whines, thumping his head on the floor and covering his eyes with his arm. Sousuke snorts at him and goes silent. Just when Makoto thinks he must’ve offended Sousuke, he feels his tongue on his lower lip again. Makoto gulps and shakily parts his lips. He’s never done this before and doesn’t quite know how to reciprocate. This doesn’t stop Sousuke, who flicks his tongue against the underside of Makoto’s top lip until he opens his mouth a little wider.

“Mm, c’mon, move yours, too,” Sousuke murmurs against his lips, nipping at him. “And take your arm off your face.”

Panting slightly with anticipation, Makoto lets his arm fall from his eyes to the floor above his head. Sousuke audibly gulps.

“Shit. You’re really fucking cute, you know that?”

Sousuke kisses him again before Makoto answers. Once more he runs his tongue along his lower lip, guiding his mouth open. This time, Makoto extends his tongue. It feels silly at first, and reminds him of when Ran and Ren used to make silly faces at him. The moment their tongues touch, it’s completely different. It feels both hot and cool at the same time, instantly taking Makoto’s breath away. Sousuke grunts softly and angles his body more, deepening their kiss further with a single motion and making Makoto gasp wetly.

Makoto feels a surge of jealousy about Sousuke’s skill level. _How many people has he practiced on to get this good?_ Feeling emboldened, Makoto pushes his tongue back up into Sousuke’s mouth. Sousuke makes a surprised sound but doesn’t skip a beat. The sound of their wet kisses grows louder as the intensity increases. Makoto grabs at his shirt, knotting the fabric in his fingers as their kisses become sloppy.

Feeling a tingling sensation between his legs, Makoto tears himself away with a sound that should be reserved for some kind of porno. Sousuke pursues him for a split second, tongue still extended past his moist lips. However, he stops short and withdraws, smirking.

“How was that?” he whispers hotly into Makoto’s ear. For a terrifying moment, Makoto’s sure he’s going to cum in his pants and doesn’t say a word, shaking hard. Sousuke smooths his hair back. “That good, huh?”

“Sh… shut up,” Makoto pants. He’s sure he has an erection, but when he looks down, there isn’t one. Not yet. He thinks of anything else but Sousuke to keep it that way. Sousuke laughs and makes a movement like he’s going to lift his right arm and touch him, but the smile on his face instantly fades as he flinches in pain. Makoto wills the blush on his face away as he looks up at Sousuke. “You need to put your arm back in the sling.”

“Uggggh,” Sousuke groans. He rolls onto his back as Makoto sits up and crawls over to Sousuke’s sling to retrieve it. “ _Fuck_ this shoulder!”

The sudden volume startles Makoto. Frowning, he returns to Sousuke and reaches down to caress his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “I know it’s annoying.”

“It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t making me look like a dumbass in front of my boyfriend,” Sousuke grumps. He sits up with a grunt and lets Makoto help him into his sling. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay!” Makoto says. He places a very gentle kiss on Sousuke’s shoulder. “It’ll heal soon. It’s just going to take some more time. Don’t try to rush it.”

“Fine,” Sousuke says. He leans back against Makoto and rests his eyes. Settling with his back against Sousuke’s couch, Makoto holds him against his chest and strokes his fingers through his hair over and over.

“Happy birthday,” Makoto says softly. Sousuke turns his head to nuzzle against the underside of Makoto’s chin.

“Mm. Thanks.”

 

**OCTOBER, 2014**

“This semester sucks.”

Makoto glances up from his novel and looks at Sousuke. He’s glaring at his laptop.

“You’re just saying that because you don’t have any classes with me,” Makoto teases. Sousuke hides his face behind the laptop screen and grumbles to himself.

“Whatever.”

 

**NOVEMBER, 2014**

“Makoto.”

Pausing his game on his phone, Makoto looks up at Haru, who stands over the couch with his hands on his hips.

“Yes, Haru?” Makoto asks. He smiles and sits up. Haru points at a new trinket on Makoto’s left wrist.

“What’s that?”

Makoto lifts his wrist, smiling widely as he looks down at it.

“It’s my new watch. I got it for my birthday,” he says proudly. Haru purses his lips.

“From who?”

Blushing, Makoto squirms and holds his wrist close to his chest.

“Sousuke got it for me! He said it took him weeks to find one with a cat on it, and that he even asked Rin what my favorite animal is. Look, it’s engraved on the face!” Makoto says excitedly. Haru scoffs at it, crosses his arms, and upturns his nose.

“It’s not _that_ great. And your favorite animal isn’t a _cat_. It’s an _orca_.”

Makoto looks at Haru knowingly, a sly grin slowly coming to his face.

“Haru… don’t tell me you’re jealous that you didn’t think of a present like this?”

“ _That’s not it at all!_ ”

“But I love my new phone case,” Makoto coos. He flips his phone over and looks down at the custom-made case. It’s black with a green-and-white orca printed on it. “It’s so _cute_. Such a _thoughtful_ gift from Haru-chan.”

Makoto puts on his cutest, most innocent voice, and Haru’s lips pinch together even tighter as his shoulders hunch.

“It might just be the _perfect_ gift.”

Haru huffs an extravagant sigh and looks back at Makoto, looking unimpressed.

“That voice doesn’t work on me.”

“Want to go for a swim?”

Haru goes completely rigid like a cat about to pounce, eyes wide and sparkling.

“Now?” he asks. Makoto laughs and stands.

“Yeah, right now, but keep your clothes on in the train station this time!”

 

**DECEMBER, 2014**

“I should’ve never agreed to this,” Sousuke grumbles as Makoto sobs beside him. On the television in front of them, the credits of a movie roll. He awkwardly pats Makoto’s back. “This is the least romantic Christmas date I’ve ever been on.”

“B-B-But,” Makoto sniffles. He buries his face in his hands and cries into them, unable to finish.

“God damn, Makoto, it was just a _fucking_ documentary!”

“This isn’t _just_ a documentary!” Makoto snaps suddenly. He snatches the movie case from the table and shoves it in Sousuke’s face. Sousuke just grimaces at it. It’s _Blackfish,_ a documentary about orcas in captivity. “This is a _work of art!_ ”

“Alright, alright, calm down,” Sousuke soothes. “Don’t get mad at me.”

Makoto crosses his arms and sniffs petulantly, pouting with his face turned away from Sousuke.

“Makoto. Are you mad at me?”

“N-No.”

“You’re a bad liar.”

Sousuke wraps his arms around Makoto’s waist and buries his face in his shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you, okay?” Sousuke says. He lifts his face. “I’ll go to those club meetings, like you wanted. The ones for the protection of marine life. Or whatever.”

Makoto gives a little wriggle, glancing at Sousuke out of the corner of his eye and pushing out his lip even further. He even gives it a little wibble.

“ _Every_ Wednesday though?”

“Every Wednesday.”

Makoto shifts his body towards Sousuke, giving him a teary smile. Sousuke gives his face one look and scowls.

“…Wait just a damn second.”

Makoto bursts into laughter as Sousuke shoves away from him and slaps his hand to his forehead.

“Was that seriously all a ploy to get me to come to stupid tree-hugger… well, _coral reef_ -hugger meetings, or whatever?”

“But it worked!” Makoto says. Sousuke glares. “You’re weak to my tears, Sousuke.”

“You’re damn right I’m weak to them. Even though they’re crocodile tears,” Sousuke mutters. “Quit doing that.”

“But I get what I _want_ ,” Makoto sing-songs. Sousuke grabs his chin roughly and brings him in for a searing kiss. When he pulls away, Makoto melts and sags against his boyfriend.

“And that gets me whatever _I_ want,” he growls lowly into Makoto’s ear. Shivering, Makoto bites his lip and goes in for another kiss, only to be blocked by Sousuke’s hand. “I’ll go to your ‘save the whales’ meeting or whatever. But that means you have to stop it with the fake crying. It scares me, y’know? I won’t know when you’re actually upset.”

“Mmm,” Makoto hums softly. Sousuke lowers his hand, and Makoto immediately tries to kiss him again. Again, Sousuke blocks him.

“And, for the record, you’d get whatever you want regardless of whether or not you’re crying,” Sousuke continues. “With just this face. Or… something like that.”

Apparently realizing that he’s saying something ridiculously embarrassing, Sousuke flushes and looks away. Makoto takes his chance and surges forward, batting Sousuke’s hand aside so he can crush their lips together.

 

**JANUARY, 2015**

Makoto stirs to someone’s gentle hand, stroking his hair back over and over. Eyes fluttering open, he awakens in the dim morning light. Sousuke’s face slowly comes into focus. At first, Makoto is confused. How’d he end up in Sousuke’s bed? Oh, right. He spent the night.

“Morning,” Sousuke murmurs, pausing his hand so he can lean in and peck Makoto's lips. Makoto yawns, his voice squeaking, before nuzzling his head back into the pillow. Shutting his eyes, he dozes.

“Mmn,” he whines. “Sleepy…”

“I know. Sorry I woke you,” Sousuke whispers. “I’m going to my first class.”

As Sousuke starts to roll out of bed, Makoto reaches out and grabs him.

“Cold,” he protests, wriggling in the flannel pajamas Sousuke had given him to wear. Faintly, he hears Sousuke snort.

“My pajamas aren’t warm enough for you? I’ll get you the electric blanket.”

 

**FEBRUARY, 2015**

“How does that feel?”

“A little stiff.”

Sousuke winces as Makoto helps him lift his arm straight up over his head and rotates it back. They’re standing in Makoto’s dorm on an afternoon in the middle of a snowstorm—Makoto didn’t want Sousuke driving home in this weather, so they both ended up here after class. Sousuke’s shirtless, his coat, shirt, and sling all piled up on Makoto’s bed.

“You’ve made progress,” Makoto comments, holding Sousuke’s right arm in his hands and stroking it lovingly. It’s still weak. He’s certainly not powerless and has been starting to lift weights with his arm, but it’s still considerably smaller than his left one. Under normal circumstances, it’d look funny, but Makoto would never make fun of it. Sousuke has worked too hard to be laughed at, having faced countless frustrations and hurdles. Makoto never knew how difficult physical therapy really was until he witnessed Sousuke working through the strain.

“It doesn’t hurt at all,” Sousuke observes, sounding relieved. Makoto releases his arm, and he holds it straight out by himself, arm trembling slightly with the exertion. “Just… it still almost feels like this arm isn’t even mine, you know? The movement has been so limited for so long. But lately it’s been really starting to feel good. I was able to do a set of ten with a twenty pound weight the other day, too.”

“It’s taking so long to heal,” Makoto sighs. He frowns at the wrinkled scar on Sousuke’s shoulder where the doctors made the incision almost seven months ago. “I’m worried about it taking this long. Should it be taking this long?”

“My doctor specifically said it’d be a long road to recovery. I _am_ a bit behind schedule, but I’ve prepared myself for the long haul,” Sousuke says. He gently grabs his shoulder and very carefully rolls it. “It could take more than a year before I’m back to one-hundred-percent power. And depending on how I treat it, I could be unable to swim the rest of my life if I fuck up. So I’m taking it slow. Rin would at least want me to be able to just _swim_ again. I won’t be breaking any records, but _still_.”

The smile on his face becomes gentle.

“At least I don’t have to use the sling as much anymore. Just when I’m in public. That’s good enough progress to me,” Sousuke says. Makoto blinks. Less than a year ago, Sousuke would’ve been beside himself with impatience. He probably would’ve ripped his shoulder to shreds again, trying to get it to heal faster than it could. Makoto wonders if this newfound patience is from his own influence and can’t help the smile on his face. Sousuke gives him a look. “What’s that shitty grin doing on your face?”

Some things won’t change.

Makoto comes forward and wraps his arms around Sousuke’s waist. He presses a series of kisses along his bare shoulder and smiles against it.

“You _love_ my shitty grin,” Makoto murmurs. Sousuke reaches back and gives Makoto’s hair a tug.

“Hey. Watch the fucking language,” Sousuke scolds. Makoto giggles.

“Yes, yes.”

 

**MARCH, 2015**

“…And m-may we extend our hands and hearts into the w-wai… waiting sunlight. Thank you.”

The gym erupts into applause as Rei finishes his speech, which had gotten tearful and shaky in the second half. Makoto laughs as he applauds while Haru looks on in amazement.

“Beautiful,” he says. Makoto grins.

“It _was_ beautiful, wasn’t it?”

The real waterworks come when they make the march out of Iwatobi High and their underclassmen sing to them. Makoto joins in with a reluctant (and quiet) Haru at his side, watching Rei, Gou, and Nagisa emerge from the building with their arms locked together. Rei and Nagisa are sobbing as Gou pulls them along, her own eyes flooding with tears as she waves to friends and family. Naturally, given that he’s busy with tournament prep, Rin couldn’t be there in person, but his mom is holding up her phone with Rin on FaceTime so he can watch the march.

When Makoto and Haru meet up with Rei, Gou, and Nagisa later, Rei and Nagisa still have splotchy cheeks and puffy eyes. Together they go out for dinner, and more tears ensue when Haru and Makoto present their graduation gifts.

Rei announces he will be studying abroad in the United States, having received a full scholarship for a program in medical science. Nagisa and Gou announce that they’ll be going to the same local university. When asked how they feel about a long distance relationship, Rei simply smiles and says _‘It has all been worked out_.’ Rei and Nagisa share a knowing, fond grin, making Makoto wonder what exactly has been happening behind the scenes.

 

**APRIL, 2015**

“You could’ve just moved in with me.”

With a grunt, Sousuke sets a box down on Makoto’s dorm bed. Makoto follows him in with a bigger, heavier box and sets it beside the other one. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Makoto puts his hands on his hips and looks around his room.

“I think it’d be worth it to spend one more year on-campus,” Makoto says. “I really meant it when I said that.”

“I guess,” Sousuke grumbles. He flops down on Makoto’s bed and winces. It doesn’t have the padding on it yet, making for an uncomfortable place to sit. Lifting his arms behind his head, he leans against the wall and watches Makoto put stuff away.

“Year two,” Makoto murmurs, folding a pair of boxer-briefs and setting them neatly in his top dresser drawer. “I can’t believe we’re already here.”

“Yeah,” Sousuke grunts. He goes quiet, prompting Makoto to look over at him.

“Are you alright?” he asks. Sousuke shrugs and looks away.

“It’s nothing. My dad’s been riding my ass even more lately,” he says. Frowning, Makoto nudges his dresser drawer shut with his elbow and sits down beside his boyfriend on the bed. Setting a hand on his knee, he rubs with his thumb.

“How so?” he asks. Sousuke groans and rolls his eyes back to stare at the ceiling.

“Just giving me shit about how I’m wasting time. He doesn’t say it directly. Just makes these vague, passive-aggressive statements about what I’m doing. Yesterday I got an email from him about a job opportunity in his company as… I don’t know, some fucking pencil pusher job,” Sousuke grumbles. He shakes his head and throws up his hand in a hopeless gesture. “I ignored it, obviously. But then there’s this whole situation with you.”

“With me?” Makoto asks.

“…Thinks I’m wasting time with you, too,” Sousuke mutters. Makoto’s eyebrows knit together.

“Huh? That can’t be right,” he laughs. “Iwao-san said he didn’t care about that at all.”

Sousuke scowls.

“Don’t take that as support. He’s feeding you _bullshit_ ,” he snarls. His anger flares, and Makoto withdraws his hand. Sousuke hates being touched when he’s angry, and Makoto won’t provoke him regardless of their relationship status. “He only said that because he thinks it’s just a phase. He thinks every fucking thing I do is a phase. Swimming. Physical therapy. And now you. He assumes that I’ll just ride it out and ‘realize he was right all along’ in the end. He doesn’t want me in any relationship that doesn’t benefit me financially. Do _not_ be fooled by my fucking dad, Makoto. Don’t do it.”

“Okay, okay,” Makoto says gently, gesturing for Sousuke to calm down. Sousuke runs a hand through his hair and grits his teeth.

“He wanted me to come over for dinner the other day and all he talked about were marriage interviews, like it’s not fucking _2015_. Who even _does_ those anymore?” Sousuke rages. He pounds his fist on his thigh and lets out a disgusted scoff. “I told him, ‘Dad, I’m in college’, and he said to keep my options open. Then I was like, ‘I have a boyfriend, Dad’, and he fucking _laughed_ at me, said ‘I see’, and told me to ‘keep my options open for that, too’, likes it’s some sort of _fucking_ joke!”

“Sousuke,” Makoto says. Sousuke smacks his hands over his face and squeezes hard, making it turn red. Angry red crescents form on his forehead from his nails. Makoto frowns, resisting the urge to touch him.

“I can’t stand him. Literally every time I look at him, I want to knock his head right off of his body,” Sousuke says. Makoto nods, but he’s saddened to hear Sousuke say that.

“I’m sorry,” he says. Sousuke’s hunched shoulders slump, and he looks over at Makoto, lips downturned.

“He’s doesn’t give a shit about what I do or why I do it. The only thing that matters to him is that I start working. Probably to make a shit ton of money so he can retire early or something.”

“I don’t think that’s the--”

“I’m sorry, is he _your_ dad?” Sousuke snaps. “You don’t know shit.”

Makoto, hurt, looks away and stares at the floor. Sousuke groans.

“Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap, I’m just pisse--”

“I may not know your dad, but I have experience with people who don’t care about how I feel, okay?” Makoto interrupts. “Haru still tries to talk me out of dating you _every single time_ I even bring you up. And I’m pretty sure Rin has been hinting at it, too.”

Sousuke shuts his mouth and looks away, confirming Makoto’s suspicions.

“He doesn’t want you dating me, either,” Makoto states. It isn’t a question. “Am I right?”

“He jokes about it, but I think he’s serious. He says I’m too rough to date someone like you,” Sousuke admits. Makoto shakes his head.

“Haru _and_ Rin, then. They’re two of my closest friends, and they both think I can’t hold my own,” Makoto says. “Haru says these things about ‘having a right to my own decision,’ but it’s only if the decisions I make are decisions he approves of. And I get that he’s trying to protect me, but he doesn’t know you. He doesn’t understand, or want to understand, how you make me feel, how happy just _being_ with you makes me feel. So please don’t sit there and assume I know nothing about loved ones trying to make decisions for you, because it just so happens I know a lot about it.”

Makoto stands, finished, and walks away. He really didn’t want to argue about this, especially not with Sousuke.

“It hurts knowing that even the person I grew up with refuses to acknowledge my feelings. He’s aromantic and asexual and, I don’t know, maybe he just doesn’t understand it,” Makoto mumbles. He opens his wardrobe and puts away his hangers with a little more force than necessary. “But that would be fine. He doesn’t _have_ to understand. It’s the fact that he doesn’t even _try_ to understand. Every opinion he has about you is based on negative stuff that happened. He doesn’t trust you.”

“I haven’t really given him a reason to,” Sousuke says. Makoto turns to face him. His eyes are downcast. He looks terribly upset now. “I’m sorry, it’s my fault. I didn’t know Nanase was still giving you hell about it.”

“Please don’t misunderstand. I love Haru with all of my heart, and I really do understand he only has my best interests in mind,” Makoto assures him, returning to the bed and sitting down again. “I don’t want you only having opinions on Haru based on negative things, either. He has been there for me my whole life. And I guess sometimes our closeness works against us. I never expected to fall in love with you. I don’t think Haru expected it either, and he doesn’t like the sudden change.”

“Fall in love, huh?”

Makoto blushes and fights down the smile that threatens to come springing to his lips.

“…Shut up. You know what I meant.”

Sousuke sighs through his nose and smiles.

“I know,” he says simply. Reaching out to take Makoto’s chin, he brings him in for a short kiss. “How do you feel about the problem with my dad?”

Makoto pulls away and hums, pondering.

“Well, I’m just going to have to show him that I can be someone who can stand at your side,” Makoto says. “It’s as simple as that, really. I understand his worries, and, you know, I empathize with him despite everything you said. I don’t think he goes about it correctly, but he _does_ love you. Maybe it’s because his own marriage didn’t work out?”

“…I still can’t believe he told you everything. Your smile makes people talk, I swear to god,” Sousuke grumbles. Makoto laughs, flashing him a trademark sunbeam smile. “Just like that.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

 

**MAY, 2015**

Haru brings home a gold tournament medal on the same day Makoto has a date with Sousuke. Makoto does not attend the celebration over Skype. He apologizes profusely the next day, of course, and even brings Haru a fresh mackerel to have for dinner that very night. Mackerel has never failed to get Makoto out of trouble with his best friend.

He doesn’t notice Haru’s icy blue stare boring into the side of his head during dinner. He doesn’t notice how Haru’s resentment towards Sousuke pools and festers. Haru says nothing, so Makoto fears nothing.

 

**JUNE, 2015**

“A whole year.”

“Hm?” Makoto hums, looking up from his book. Sousuke’s standing by the window in his apartment bedroom, looking out onto the street below. There’s a smile on his face, and it is beautiful in the sunlight. Makoto can’t help the grin that comes to his own face. “Oh, since your surgery.”

“It feels great,” Sousuke says. He touches his left hand to his right shoulder, rolling it. His arms are the same size again, but Makoto knows he still favors his right arm. He almost never does anything overly strenuous to it. Any time he needs to lift something or use his shoulder for leverage, it’s always the left one. That isn’t to say he isn’t gentle with his left shoulder as well; he has certainly learned his lesson.

“I’m glad,” Makoto says softly. Sousuke looks at him, and in that moment he feels something bubbling up inside of him, unable to be contained. “I love you.”

Sousuke comes forward and sits down on the bed, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans.

“Was that just a slip of the tongue again?” Sousuke asks, smirking. Makoto blushes and slaps his book over his face.

“Quit teasing me!” he whines, voice muffled. He feels Sousuke’s lips on his fingers and lowers the book again so he can receive a sweet, chaste kiss on the lips.

“You didn’t have to keep it from me for that long,” he says. “It’s not like you’re proposing to me or anything.”

“Yeah but…” Makoto mumbles, pouting. “I wanted it to be special.”

“It is special. It was special the first time you ever said it to me, way back before we started dating. Even if it was accidental, you were telling me how you really felt,” Sousuke points out. “It was special then, and it’s special now. I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“You remember that?”

“Obviously.”

Makoto nibbles his bottom lip, torn between humiliation and blinding happiness.

“I love you, too, is the point I’m getting at here,” Sousuke deadpans. Makoto breaks, his eyes immediately welling with tears. Sousuke glances at him, does a double-take, and looks startled. “Whoa, Makoto?”

“I’m really happy,” Makoto sniffles. He pulls his knees up to his chest and scrubs at his eyes. “I’m so happy, I think I’m gonna die.”

“Ah, jeez,” Sousuke sighs. He gets on his hands and knees and crawls to Makoto’s side to kiss his temple. “I’m happy, too.”

Makoto tips his head back to kiss him again.

 

**JULY, 2015**

“Makoto-senpai, I wanted to have a private discussion with you about something.”

“Of course,” Makoto says. He looks over his shoulder to make sure Haru’s not there. He left a while ago to go to the bathroom and hasn’t come back in a while. Makoto has a sneaking suspicion he’s bathing. The guy just turned twenty, but some things will _never_ change. Makoto turns back to the laptop screen to look at Rei, who is currently residing in his host family’s home in California, United States.

“Ahem. This… happens to be a very intimate subject… but you were the only one I… well…” Rei stammers. He flushes heavily as he reaches up to jerkily adjust his red-rimmed glasses. “…I suppose… you’re the only one with experience. Since Haruka-senpai is asexual… y-you were the most logical choice.”

Makoto tilts his head in confusion. What does Haru’s sexuality have to do with this?

“…M-Makoto-senpai, p-please… could you inform m-me on how to p-p-p-properly make l-l-… love for the first time?” Rei struggles. Makoto’s blood runs cold, his face frozen in a grimace. Rei flails his arms, beet red all over. “Of course I know you wouldn’t know how to have sex with a girl! Of course! It’s just, I want to study it correctly for Gou-san when I return from America for the holidays! But I don’t quite understand how to do it, you see, when I start do things to myself, and when I picture certain things, you see, I can’t stop myself from… well, prematurely--”

“Rei, _please!_ ” Makoto wails, slapping his hands over his face. Rei does the same and they sit in awkward silence for a good thirty seconds before Makoto feels confident enough to raise his head.

“I’m… sincerely sorry, Makoto-senpai,” Rei whimpers. Makoto shifts uncomfortably and scratches his cheek.

“N-No, no, it’s not that, it’s just…” Makoto trails off. He clears his throat and looks anywhere but the laptop. “Um… okay, well, I’ve never… actually…”

Rei’s eyes widen and his jaw drops.

“Makoto-senpai, you’ve _never_ \--?!”

“Shh-hhh!” Makoto hushes frantically. He turns down the volume of the laptop and looks around fearfully. “Not so loud, Rei. But no, I have never done anything like that.”

Rei looks confused.

“Um… okay, but Gou-san said that Nagisa-kun said that _Haruka-senpai_ said that you’re dating someone.”

“Ah, yes,” Makoto says. He fidgets. “I’m sorry, I’ve been keeping things from you. I’ve been dating Yamazaki-kun. Um… you’ve met him before. At the relay…?”

“Sou-chan-san?!” Rei shouts. Makoto whines and turns down the volume of the laptop again.

“ _Rei_ …”

“W-Well… I see then. Um… can I ask how long?”

“It’s going to be a year in about two weeks, on the 17th,” Makoto says. Rei’s jaw drops.

“A _year?_ And you haven’t… you know?”

“I-I didn’t really think about it,” Makoto says shyly. And he hasn’t. Sure, a few of their kisses had wandered into dangerous territory, but it never escalated past much more than a hickey on the collarbone or jeans feeling too tight. It almost always cuts short just before things get too hot. Makoto is disappointed afterwards, yes, but… well, Sousuke has a way of making Makoto smile and forget about the too-short kiss. Now, as Rei mentions it, he thinks back to all the times Sousuke has restrained himself. Makoto looks at Rei and asks, “But what about you and Gou? You two have been together even longer.”

“…I didn’t say we haven’t done _anything,_ ” Rei mumbles. “Just that we haven’t had _intercourse_.”

“Please don’t say that word again, Rei,” Makoto whimpers, wishing he could chop his ears off. The _last_ thing he _ever_ wanted to hear about is his kouhai’s sexual escapades.

“I really am shocked though, Makoto-senpai. You always struck me as a man holding himself back,” Rei says. Makoto flinches ever so slightly. Rei’s perception is astounding when it doesn’t have to do with himself. “Of all of us, I expected you to be the first one to have sexual experience. You do think about it, right?”

“Y-Yeah, I think about it,” Makoto laughs awkwardly. He prays for a sudden explosion to kill him or at least a catapult to launch him into the sun. This is excruciatingly painful to talk about. He’s about ready to shut the wi-fi off on the laptop when Rei speaks up again.

“Have you talked to Sousuke-san about it?”

Makoto stops.

“Um, no, it just… never really came up…”

“It’s not good to keep things bottled up, Makoto-senpai. It’s going to cause problems.”

Makoto swallows.

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friends [Diana](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com) and [Codango](https://codango.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now that the initial surprise is over, I'll let you in on the secret. FEFSKY will be comprised of five parts, four intermissions, and one epilogue. As you've probably realized based on the big jump made in Intermission 1, we will be going over a very wide range of time! For those of you worried FEFSKY is ending soon... uh... don't. We have a long, long way to go.
> 
> The reasoning for this? The sheer amount of content we're going to cover. I want you all to understand that love, relationships, development, simply CAN'T happen in a single semester of college! This was heavily discussed between my beloved editors Diana, Codango, and I. I even recruited the help of Tatsudai, one of FEFSKY's beloved artists, who agreed with us that committing FEFSKY to a parts/intermissions system would be the best way to keep up the pace. Otherwise, in order to encompass everything I have planned, some chapters would skip three months ahead, others would take place in the course of an hour... it was destined to be an absolute HELL of a mess. I don't want that, and I'm sure you guys don't, either.
> 
> So buckle up, friends! We're all on the FEFSKY train to SouMako hell!
> 
> **Quick reminder to not glorify abuse/rape/etc in comments! Any comments like that will be deleted! Thank you!

“ _...Deus ibi est. Congregavit nos in unum Christi amor…_ ”

Makoto smiles down at Sousuke. He's on Sousuke's bed, his back against the headboard and Sousuke’s head in his lap. Beside them on the bedside table, Sousuke’s phone is hooked up to a pair of speakers and is playing from Sousuke’s classical playlist. This is somewhat of a new development; Sousuke had been hesitant to listen to his secret music with Makoto around, but Makoto had insisted, knowing it helps him concentrate.

Closing his textbook (a novel for his English literature class), Makoto continues to just watch Sousuke. He’s lost in his music, humming some of the phrases with his eyes closed. If Makoto listens, he can hear him mumbling it. Every few moments, he’s treated to the clear sound of Sousuke’s soft, tenor voice singing along.

“What language is that?” Makoto asks. Sousuke immediately goes silent, shutting his lips tight and opening his eyes. “I’m sorry!”

“You know I hate it when you listen,” Sousuke grunts. He starts to sit up, only to be stopped by Makoto’s fingers stroking through his hair. He gives up and falls back into Makoto’s lap, enjoying Makoto’s nails lightly scratching his scalp and shutting his eyes again. “Ah, jeez. It’s Latin.”

“It’s beautiful,” Makoto says as the song fades out. There’s a slight pause before a familiar orchestral piece plays. It’s one of Sousuke’s favorites, so Makoto naturally likes it too. Even though he prefers rock and metal, he compromises when they’re studying. His own personal playlist is too loud for Sousuke to concentrate, so it’s reserved for when they’re working out together. “Sousuke?”

“Mm?”

“Ever think about joining the choir here?” he asks carefully. Sousuke furrows his brow and opens one eye to peer up at Makoto.

“Why the fuck would I want to put on a tuxedo to sweat all over a stage while I sing to a bunch of crusty old people?”

“Not everyone would be old,” Makoto points out. “ _I’d_ go to watch you and listen to you sing. I love your singing voice.”

“No,” Sousuke says simply. This time he sits up and doesn’t let Makoto pull him back into his lap. “And besides, it’s the middle of July. The choir isn’t looking for new members.”

“You could sing at the coffee pla--”

“No.”

Makoto pouts. Sousuke rolls his eyes.

“What about you, then? You with that scratchy rock ballad voice,” Sousuke murmurs. Makoto tenses as he leans in and kisses the side of his mouth. He moves down to his jaw, sliding his lips along it to his ear. “I’ve heard you singing in the shower.”

“I-Is that so?” Makoto asks with a nervous giggle. His book slips out of his hand and he loses his place as it falls off the bed. He moves to pick it up, but Sousuke hooks a finger in a belt loop of his jeans and tugs him back.

“Your scratchy voice is hot,” Sousuke says. Makoto bites his lower lip and grins as he eagerly lies down on the bed. Knowing what’s coming next, he runs the tip of his tongue along his lips to moisten them. Sousuke chuckles softly and lifts himself to hover over Makoto. “I’d pay money to go to a concert if you were the vocalist. Probably fuck up my shoulder again in the mosh pit or something.”

“Oh, how _terrible_ ,” Makoto teases, grinning. Sousuke laughs and lowers his head to peck Makoto’s lips. Makoto follows his withdrawal, whining softly when he pulls away. Flopping his head back onto the bed, Makoto gives Sousuke a needy look. “Mmmn, more?”

“I’m serious about your voice,” Sousuke says. “I was so surprised when I first heard you singing, I thought someone broke into my house and was in my shower.”

“Sousuke, kisses--”

“I was about to kick down the door when you started singing a softer part, and I recognized your voice, and then it got all low and scratchy again,” Sousuke continues while Makoto warbles for kisses and makes grabby hands at his face. “And I remember thinking that there was _no_ wa--”

Sick of waiting, Makoto surges upwards and clings to Sousuke’s face as he kisses him. Sousuke locks up at first but is quick to respond, pressing Makoto back into the mattress and settling on top of him. His caduceus pendant lands heavily on Makoto’s chest, then slides into the hollow of his neck. The feeling of being pinned has Makoto going hot all over, and he makes sure to make this clear by whimpering into Sousuke’s mouth.

“Mm… mm, too heavy?” Sousuke asks wetly against Makoto’s lips.

“No,” Makoto gasps back. He wraps his arms around Sousuke, gripping the back of his shirt tightly, tugging at it. He hikes it up and slides his hands under it. When he digs his nails into his back, Sousuke inhales sharply through his nose and plunges his tongue deep into Makoto’s mouth. Makoto reciprocates enthusiastically, settling into a pattern of giving and receiving. Sousuke’s so good at it, he could melt right here.

When he can’t breathe, Makoto wrenches himself away and moans breathlessly as Sousuke shifts his focus to his chin and jaw. With a gasp, he gives an experimental rock of his hips and presses up against the solid body above him. He digs in his nails until Sousuke grunts with discomfort and pushes his arms down onto the bed. The temperature spikes as he pins Makoto’s wrists down.

“More,” Makoto whispers. “More, _more_.”

Sousuke’s open-mouthed kisses get rougher, ending with nips and bites and sending electricity through Makoto’s veins until he’s panting harshly against the top of Sousuke’s head. He wants to reach down and take off Sousuke’s pants, but he just can’t free his arms. Sousuke won’t let his arms up and it _really_ shouldn’t be as sexy as it is.

_More, more, more, more--_

Sousuke lifts away from Makoto suddenly, sending him crashing back to earth. Breathing hard with a cherry-red face, Makoto remains sprawled on the bed as Sousuke rolls over and reaches for the speakers on his bedside table.

“I thought I got rid of this song,” he says irritably. “When I downloaded it, I didn’t realize the sound quality was so shitty until I listened to the full thing.”

Makoto, glassy-eyed, slowly sits up and adjusts his skewed glasses. He pouts at the back of Sousuke’s head. _Again?!_

“You’ve got class at two, right? I’ll drive you,” Sousuke says. He stands from the bed, just barely dodging Makoto’s outstretched hand. Makoto flops over onto his face, unsatisfied.

“You know, there isn’t anything going on today. I don’t mind skipping,” Makoto hints. He rolls onto his side and lounges there with messy hair and a disheveled shirt. Sousuke looks down at him, hands in his pockets and his brow lifted quizzically.

“You’ve never skipped class before,” Sousuke points out. “And last time you thought you were going to be late, you ended up putting your shirt on inside-out.”

“Well yeah, but… I’m a second year now, so it’s not that big a deal.”

“That was last week, Makoto.”

Sighing deeply, Makoto looks away and sits up. Any tightness he may have felt in his jeans has faded, but he is still left yearning.

“Something wrong?” Sousuke asks. Makoto shakes his head.

“No,” he says. Sousuke gives him a look that says he knows Makoto is lying, but he doesn’t press it. Makoto gets out of bed, standing on shaky legs. He sends Sousuke one last needy look, hoping to perhaps make him realize what he wants. Sousuke looks, and Makoto sees something flash in his eyes before he comes forward, grabs his neck, and yanks him into a burning kiss. Makoto clings to him like his life depends on it, but yet again Sousuke pulls away, holding him gently by the throat.

“What was that face for?” Sousuke murmurs. Makoto swallows hard, his adam’s apple partially blocked by Sousuke’s thumb. The feeling of his constricting throat makes his knees weak.

“I don’t know,” Makoto breathes. “Maybe we should… stay home.”

Sousuke takes a breath like he’s going to say something, stops, and pulls away. Makoto stares at him.

“Look, I’m not an idiot. I know what you’re doing,” Sousuke says quietly. He looks at Makoto, eyes solemn. “And I really don’t think I’m ready for that yet.”

Makoto feels his face burn in mortification.

“Is this about the sex being gay?” he blurts. “Because--”

“It’s not the gay part,” Sousuke huffs. He crosses his arms and looks away. “It’s just the sex part.”

It’s always something. Makoto wants to tell Sousuke this, that there’s _always_ some sort of doubt in the way. First it was ‘the boyfriend part’, then it was ‘the gay part’, now it’s ‘the sex part’. He wants to ask Sousuke what the problem is, when it’s so obvious that they both want each other at this point. He wants to grab him by the shoulders and make him spill everything concerning him, but he bites it back.

“The sex part,” Makoto repeats. Sousuke frowns and nods, scuffing his toe awkwardly. “Is it me?”

“What? No,” Sousuke says. He thinks for a moment. “I mean… I don’t know, I guess I’m still struggling with a lot of this.”

“With a lot of what?” Makoto presses before he can stop himself. Sousuke looks suddenly defensive, brows knitted. Makoto instantly reels it back, lifting his hands in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. That was pushing too much.”

_Struggling with what? What could you possibly be struggling with after all this time?_

Makoto bites his lip. He can’t say it. He’ll start a fight, and that’s the last thing he ever wants with Sousuke. The one, singular time he fought with Haru, he left _Japan_. What if the one, singular time he fights with Sousuke, he leaves _him?_

“Makoto,” Sousuke says. He comes close and holds Makoto’s chin in his hand. Bringing him forward, he kisses him very lightly on the lips. “Just… be patient. It’s… it’s complicated, okay? I’ll be out in the car.”

“Okay,” Makoto sighs. As Sousuke pulls away from him and leaves the room, a crease forms in his forehead. He has to take a moment to compose himself in the middle of Sousuke’s bedroom. He’ll wait, like he always has, for things to patch themselves up. They always do, eventually.

\---

“You’ve been down in the dumps all day, Mako-kun. What’s on your mind?”

It takes him a moment to react. Makoto glances up from his English literature novel at Sato, who sits across from him with her chin in her palm. It’s a little before six, and they’re eating dinner together in the cafeteria.

“It’s Sousuke-kun, isn’t it?” Sato sighs. Makoto nods sheepishly, and Sato clicks her tongue. “I see. Should I give him a piece of my mind?”

“No!” Makoto exclaims. “No, please. That’ll just make it worse.”

“Don’t tell me you guys are fighting?” Sato asks, concern crossing over her face.

“We’re not fighting, I just… Sato-san, can I tell you something super private?” Makoto asks, a blush already traveling up his cheeks. Sato leans forward and Makoto moves his hand to cup over her ear as he whispers into it. “Me and Sousuke haven’t had sex.”

“ _You haven’t had sex?!_ ” Sato practically shrieks. Makoto bangs his head on the table.

“Sato-san, _please!_ ” he wails.

“Sorry, sorry. Oh my god. You guys have been together for, like, a year. Your anniversary is coming up, isn’t it?”

“Friday the 17th, yes,” Makoto says, glancing at his watch. He frowns.

“I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. There’s no way you guys haven’t done _anything_ ,” Sato scoffs in disbelief. “Are you yanking my chain?”

“No!” Makoto says. “It’s true. At first we were both busy with our own lives, and time just got away from us. Sousuke was always in physical therapy on top of classes, so we couldn’t see each other as much as we wanted. And now, even though he’s not in therapy anymore, he has never…”

“So you want to have sex with him, and he’s not putting out,” Sato says. Makoto nods, squeezing his hands between his thighs under the table.

“I want to _very_ badly,” he whimpers. “It’s all I’ve been able to think about since my old kouhai from high school called to ask me if I had any… s-sex tips.”

“Did everyone live under a rock in Iwatobi or something?” Sato teases. Makoto grins a little.

“It’s not that bad, honest! You’ll change your mind if you came and saw the sea,” he says. Sato taps her chin and nods.

“Point taken. Sorry, go on.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Makoto sighs. “It’s really shaking my confidence.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, today I kept hinting that I wanted to, and Sousuke caught on to it really fast. He said that he’s not ready for sex. But he kissed me like he wanted to. He touched me like he wanted to. But as soon as it got too hot, he stopped it. Do you think he’s actually asexual?”

“Maybe,” Sato muses. “But honestly, I don’t know. I’ve seen the looks he gives you, and there’s no way there isn’t sexual attraction there. And if he’s kissing you like that, then he probably has sexual attraction towards you. Remember when we all went out for ice cream, and you split a popsicle with me?”

“…Wait, huh?” Makoto asks. Sato rolls her eyes.

“You really didn’t see the way Sousuke was staring?” she asks. “Well, to be honest, I was staring, too. Did you know you make super erotic faces when you’re not thinking about it?”

“Oh my god. He probably thought that I looked stupid more than anything,” Makoto whimpers. He wishes it was socially acceptable to stick his chopsticks in his eyeballs and disappear forever. Instead, he drops his head into his hands.

“Asexuality might be a possibility, but it’s not likely,” Sato says.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“Haha, maybe his dick doesn’t work,” Sato giggles.

“That’s not funny,” Makoto moans, red-faced. Sato grins and puts her chin in her palm.

“But seriously, what if something’s wrong down there? Erectile dysfunction?”

“That can’t be it,” Makoto says, shaking his head. “A long time ago, when there was a thunderstorm, and we were in his room together, he got… well, I’m pretty sure he accidentally got…”

“A boner,” Sato finishes. Makoto pinches his lips together and nods. Sato scratches her chin. “Huh. That _is_ weird. Maybe it’s an emotional thing?”

“The only thing I can think of is that he can’t… get it up for me. Because I’m another man,” Makoto says. Sato frowns as Makoto looks down at his empty dinner plate. “Or because I’m not attractive enough. Or I’m not doing the right thing.”

“Have you told him you feel this way?” Sato asks. Makoto winces and fidgets. “Mako-kun, your unwillingness to confront people is starting to become a serious problem with you and Sousuke-kun.”

“I know, I _know_ , everyone is telling me that,” Makoto huffs. “And I get it. But I worry about fighting with him.”

“Do you distrust him?”

“No! I don’t distrust him at all,” Makoto insists. “But… but a long time ago, me and Haru got in such a huge fight, he left Japan. I mean, I knew he needed his space. But the fight was so bad he had to leave the _country_. Trust had never been an issue between us, and then… everything snapped.”

Makoto shivers at the memory. He can still remember the way Haru looked at him, how he grabbed his shirt. If he was in Iwatobi right now, he could find the exact brick where he was standing when Haru screamed at him. He wishes he could wipe that memory away, he hates it so much.

“You’re worried a fight with Sousuke will cause him to break up with you? You guys have had disagreements before, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, but they’re never _bad_ ,” Makoto says. Sato stands from her seat, and Makoto follows with his plate and empty cup in hand. “Any disagreements we’ve had were about things outside of our relationship.”

“I don’t like the sound of that,” Sato says. They bring their dishes to the dishwashing stations, then make their way out of the cafeteria. The sun is still bright, and it’s humid and hot, making for uncomfortable digestion. Sato takes them to the campus courtyard, where they find some shade under a tree. She stretches out on her back while Makoto sits beside her and tugs at a few fistfuls of grass.

“What should I do, Sato-san?” Makoto asks. Sato closes her eyes and hums to herself as she thinks.

“Well, obviously what you should do is talk to him,” Sato says. Makoto frowns and looks down. “But I know you well enough to know that won’t happen.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me. You should be apologizing to yourself,” Sato says. She opens her eyes and looks up at Makoto solemnly. “You’re a really nice guy, every woman’s fantasy husband. Probably every man’s fantasy husband, too. But you’re bad at communicating.”

“I know,” Makoto sighs. Sato closes her eyes again and quirks her lips to the side as she continues to ponder.

“Why don’t you ask Haru-kun for his opinion? You fought with him before. See what he thinks you should do,” Sato suggests. Makoto hums.

“I don’t know. He’s been a little grumpy lately. I think his coach is giving him trouble again, and he’s taking it out on me or something,” Makoto says. “Not to mention, he _really_ doesn’t like it when I talk about Sousuke. Even more so than usual.”

“Give it a try,” Sato urges. “I’m worried about you guys. I love you and Sousuke-kun so much, and the thought of you guys separating makes me upset.”

Sato opens her eyes and looks at the leaves blowing in the breeze above her, a troubled look on her face.

“Sato-san,” Makoto murmurs. He scoots forward and touches her arm. She sits up and hugs him tightly. When she pulls away, she smiles.

“But I’m going to think positive,” she says. “I know you can do it, Mako-kun. I’m going to be rooting for you.”

“Thanks,” Makoto says. He gives Sato one last squeeze before letting go and holding her by the elbows. “I’ll talk to Haru and see what he says.”

“Okay!” Sato chirps. “Awesome. Yeah, please get stuff worked out, because you guys are, like, two of my best friends. It has been so lonely since Aiko graduated.”

“That’s right! How is she doing?” Makoto asks. Sato sits cross-legged and looks up at the leaves again as she thinks.

“She’s doing great. She just had an interview with a big company she wants to work for.”

“So that business major is really working out for her already, huh?” Makoto asks. Sato nods.

“Yeah. I call her all the time to stay updated,” Sato says. Her smile is a bit wistful, and she strokes a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I miss her a lot.”

“Sato-san, do you have a crush on Aiko?” Makoto suddenly asks. When Sato gives him a look, he backpedals. “Ah, I’m sorry, it just slipped out!”

“I don’t know,” Sato says. She shrugs. “I don’t really have a crush on anyone, and I sorta like it that way. Aiko is cute, and she’s bisexual, but I never really thought of having a relationship with her. Or anyone, for that matter. I like it that my friends are getting together and being happy together, though.”

“Is there a sexuality for that, too?” Makoto asks. Sato laughs.

“I dunno! Probably. I like sex, and I think people are sexually attractive, so I’m not asexual. Maybe aromantic? Oh, but then I also want a family someday,” Sato hums. She throws her hands up. “Who knows! It’s a mess. I’m just going with the flow.”

“Sato-san, you’re so cool,” Makoto says. Sato grins.

“Oh, stop it, you ass-kisser,” Sato says, leaning over to give Makoto a noogie. Makoto grabs her wrist and holds it, laughing as he tries to get his head away. As he wrestles with her hand, his phone goes off in his pocket.

“Hold on, hold on!” Makoto laughs. With grass blades in his hair, Makoto pulls out his phone and checks the texts.

_[Let’s swim. Meet me at AC.]_

“Who is it?” Sato asks nosily, craning her neck to try to see the message. Makoto hides it from her by pressing it to his chest.

“None of your business!” he singsongs, earning another handful of grass to the face. Spluttering, he laughs and shows Sato his phone. “It’s Sousuke. He wants to meet me at the activity center to swim.”

“Swimming? That’s going to be the first time since… at least the surgery, right?” Sato asks. Makoto nods and stands, brushing off the grass from his clothes. “Hold on, you have it all over your butt, too.”

Sato pats the backs of Makoto’s thighs, brushing more grass off of him. Makoto grins.

“Thanks. I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Gotcha. Don’t forget to talk to Haru-kun!”

“Yes, yes.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **The song Sousuke was singing at the beginning is Ubi Caritas, sung by the Cambridge Singers
> 
> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friends [Diana](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com) and [Codango](https://codango.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	23. Chapter 23

The sun is just beginning to set as Makoto finishes warming up. Sousuke had insisted on at least four laps around the track and twenty minutes of stretching and limbering up before they swam, leaving Makoto impatient to get in the water. He hasn’t felt the squeeze of his jammers in such a long time. Makoto wonders if this is what Haru feels like every single day, every moment he’s not swimming.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but are you sure you’re okay to do this?” Makoto asks,. Sousuke’s in his jammers as well, of course, hand clasped on his right shoulder as he does backwards elbow rolls. He glances over at Makoto with a glint in his eye.

“Definitely okay. This is all I’ve been able to think about for the past few weeks. I got the okay from my doctor and everything, so don’t sweat it.”

Makoto can’t help but still feel a little worried.

“Last time we were here alone I couldn’t even get my arm over my head,” Sousuke observes, staring at the water. With the way the light from the sunset is coming directly through the windows, the pool looks golden. “Remember?”

“Hm? Yes,” Makoto agrees, glancing at Sousuke. He’s grinning as he stretches his arms straight up towards the ceiling, fingers splayed.

“Did you stretch properly? I was busy focusing on my own so I couldn’t check you out,” Sousuke says. Makoto nods.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure? I won’t let you get in until you’re stretched out,” Sousuke warns. Makoto clicks his tongue in a very Sousuke-esque fashion and crosses his arms.

“Yes!”

Sousuke laughs and nods.

“Then I want to race,” he says, putting his goggles on and stepping up to the starting block. Makoto steps up onto the block beside him.

“We should do a few practice laps before that, don’t you think?” Makoto asks, slipping his own goggles over his eyes. Sousuke flashes him a petulant look.

“I told you I’m fine to swim.”

“No, I meant so we can get used to the pool. I want to race, too,” Makoto says with a wide grin. Sousuke snorts, a certain glow about him as he gets into position.

“Figures.”

He dives in. His form isn’t perfect due to being out of practice, but there aren’t any problems with lifting his arm. Makoto dives in after him.

It’s been way too long. The moment the water closes around him, he’s back in that place where nothing can go wrong. It’s a cool, weightless feeling as Makoto propels himself with powerful kicks. Breaking the surface, he extends his right arm into a front crawl and relishes the feeling of the water around him and the energy it gives him.

Sousuke, already past the turn and in the underwater phase, passes Makoto in the next lane. Makoto sees his dark outline and can hear the splashing when he turns his head to breathe. The thought of Sousuke only a few yards ahead of him spurs him on. He kicks a little harder, hits the turn, and works to catch up.

He’s there in a moment, but Sousuke starts to move a little faster. Makoto picks up speed as well, but Sousuke pushes ahead again. Sousuke’s hand hits the wall first, and they both surface, panting heavily. They look at each other, smiling, and swim a few more laps.

“Let’s do this,” Sousuke says the sixth time they reach the starting blocks. When he looks at Makoto, his eyes are on fire.

“How’re you doing? Shoulder pain?” Makoto asks. He lifts himself out of the pool, and Sousuke follows without any problems, but it’s obvious he’s putting more weight on his left arm. They both get back on the starting blocks, buzzing with energy.

“Feels great. No pain,” Sousuke says. He sounds breathless and keeps shifting excitedly. “I won’t swim butterfly. Not yet. Not until I’m used to swimming again.”

Makoto nods.

“Can you see the markers alright? Want the lights on?” he asks. Makoto’s feet begin to burn as his desperation to get back in the water intensifies.

“No, I can see them just fine,” Sousuke says. “How far do you want to race?”

“Until I can’t feel my legs.”

Makoto gets into position while Sousuke barks a laugh and copies him. They tense on the starting blocks, toes curling over the edge.

One of them says ‘go’, but Makoto honestly doesn’t know if it came out of his own mouth or Sousuke’s. The moment he dives off the block, electricity courses through him from his heel to the tips of his fingers. They hit the water and swim furiously. They hit a turn. They hit the next one. The next. Another.

Makoto feels the burn in his lungs intensify as he swims, but still he pushes. They’re neck and neck. He’s surprised Sousuke is able to go so fast even with his lack of practice, but Makoto hasn’t swam seriously in well over a year himself. They’re relying on deeply ingrained muscle memory now. This is just raw talent, rooted in years of training.

They match each other stroke for stroke.

When Makoto hits the next turn, he feels it. It’s the last stretch. He doesn’t know how he knows, but it is. With a burst of energy, he churns the water like his life depends on it and exceeds his threshold.

It’s so painful, but at the same time it’s euphoric. His lungs are on fire, and his muscles scream for him to stop, but still he pushes because Sousuke’s there right next to him, swimming his hardest, unrelenting, unleashed. The water around him turns black and, for a split moment, Makoto swears the pool is bottomless.

Beneath him, a massive creature glides through the darkness. Its broad, navy back is speckled white, its eyes wideset, its gaping maw stretching open wider and wider, swallowing him whole, squeezing him—

They hit the wall at nearly the same time; Makoto doesn’t know who won at all. He doesn’t care.

He surfaces and sucks in air, absolutely sure he’s about to die. He’s so dizzy. Beside him, the lane markers lift as someone crowds into his lane, and maybe it’s the lack of oxygen, but Makoto grabs for anything he can touch.

His fingers sink into slick, wet hair. Something rubbery snaps in his grip. He barely has time to rip his own goggles off before lips crash into his. He’s still out of breath and his lungs burn as he kisses the man in his arms. His senses sharpen, and he’s hyper-aware of the fingers roaming over his chest and the taste of salt on his tongue and the smell of chlorine. There’s so much adrenaline in his system, he feels high.

“Holy shit. Holy shit,” Sousuke chants over and over between frantic kisses. “Did you feel that? Tell me you felt that.”

“Yeah,” Makoto gasps. Sousuke wheezes as he laughs.

“You broke my goggles, you little fucker.”

Sousuke backs him into the edge of the pool and pins him there, swallowing Makoto’s moan. Sousuke’s fingers knot in his hair, and he tugs very lightly. Makoto wrenches back at the slight sting of his scalp, shocked at the heat dropping heavily in his abdomen.

“W-Wait--!”

Sousuke pulls his head back to look at him, but he’s still clutching Makoto’s hair. The sting intensifies, and Makoto lets out a cry. This time Sousuke releases him instantly, leaving Makoto shivering with his hand over his mouth.

“Sorry,” Sousuke pants. Makoto leans an elbow on the edge of the pool. His legs are wound around Sousuke’s waist. A very obvious erection presses insistently at the front of his jammers. Overcome with shame, Makoto scrambles to untangle their bodies and hugs himself.

“U-Um, I didn’t mean…” Makoto trails off. He’s so humiliated he can barely speak. “That… that was really intense, it just… happened, and…”

“It’s fine. Do you uh… need to take care of it?” Sousuke asks, eyebrows scrunched. Makoto wants to die. He turns away  and stretches his arms out on the cool tile of the lip of the pool. Staying absolutely still, he floats there and concentrates on willing the erection away.

“No. It’ll go away. Just… wait a second, and please don’t touch me,” Makoto breathes. He runs a hand through his hair and exhales shakily. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s not your fault,” Sousuke says. Makoto looks over his shoulder, still unable to look Sousuke in the eye.

“Um... did you... get one, too?” he asks shyly. Sousuke is silent for a moment.

“No,” he finally says. Makoto feels even more intense shame and groans, putting his hand over his eyes.

“Oh my god.”

“L-Look, it’s fine, it happens. You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

Makoto frowns, sliding his hand from his eyes to his mouth. Any arousal he felt has faded, leaving him cold. Even after such a passionate, intense moment, Sousuke hadn’t felt a thing? Makoto has never been offended by a lack of a boner before, but he definitely feels it now. It _had_ been a sexy moment, hadn’t it? And Sousuke kissed him so heatedly, so _why_ …

Is it because they’re in a pool? Makoto bites his lip. Of course he’d never do something ridiculous like have sex in a pool, but what if Sousuke _thinks_ he’d have sex in a pool? Did the thought turn him off that much? What if Sousuke thinks he’s some sort of gay _pervert?_

“Makoto?”

Makoto jumps violently as Sousuke’s hand touches his shoulder. He shivers and doesn’t look at him. Makoto feels like he might cry, so he just climbs out of the pool and musters the courage to face Sousuke again. He has so many questions, so many things he wants Sousuke to know. He wants to express his fears, his doubts, his worries.

But when he looks down at Sousuke’s face and sees the concern in his eyes and the way his lips are parted ever so slightly, the questions die on his tongue. Makoto smiles bravely and leans down to offer a hand.

“I’m... okay,” he says. “My muscles just hurt.”

That’s not a lie. His whole body feels like jelly. He hopes the little speck of honesty is enough to cover up everything else.

Sousuke sighs and reaches up to take his hand.

“I told you to quit helping people out of the pool. Use your knees to lift, not your back, like I told you,” he scolds.

“Y-Yeah.”

\---

“Hey, Makoto.”

Makoto looks over at Sousuke. They’re heading back to Makoto’s dorm. Their hair is still a little damp, and they’re walking much slower than usual, unable to do much more than drag their feet.

“Hm?” Makoto hums.

“Can I have some of your water?” Sousuke asks. Makoto nods and reaches into his gym bag. He hands over his water bottle and watches Sousuke take a small sip. Sousuke starts rummaging through his bag and takes out a prescription bottle. He shakes a pill into his palm and pops it into his mouth.

“Are you taking those regularly?” Makoto asks. Sousuke grimaces, swallows, and wipes his mouth, handing the water bottle back to Makoto.

“Yeah. I have to. My dad keeps a calendar, so he knows the exact date I’ll run out,” Sousuke mutters. “I could probably just flush them down the toilet if I wanted to, but it’s a pain in the ass to keep track of.”

“ _And_ you shouldn’t do that,” Makoto says, frowning. “I want your anxiety to get better.”

“Whatever,” Sousuke grumbles. He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I think the medication I was taking before worked better, but _Dad_ insisted I get something more potent. They give me heartburn and nausea if I don’t eat anything with them, and it’s annoying as hell.”

“Do you need something right now? I have a granola bar and an apple with me,” Makoto offers. Sousuke shakes his head and runs his hand over his sternum, brows furrowed.

“I don’t think so. But I’ll know soon.”

As they continue to walk, Makoto keeps glancing over at Sousuke. He keeps rubbing his chest. Finally he lets out a frustrated curse.

“Give me the damn apple.”

They stop in the middle of the sidewalk, and Makoto digs a red apple out of his bag. Sousuke takes it and bites into it quickly, stuffing as much apple into his mouth as he can.

“Does it happen that quickly?” Makoto asks. Sousuke nods mid-bite, licks the white meat of the apple, and swallows.

“Yeah. Just means my stomach was empty. If I catch it fast enough, it fades. But if I wait too long, the pain is real intense, even if I eat something. Feels like someone is sticking a knife through my chest or something. It hurts to breathe.”

“That’s… the doctor is letting you take antidepressants that strong?” Makoto asks, horrified. Sousuke shrugs.

“Yeah. I dunno. Pisses me off. When I first started taking them, I dry-swallowed them. Within twenty minutes of taking a pill, it felt like my throat was on fire. I talked to my doctor about that, too, and she said I could burn a hole through my throat doing that.”

“Please don’t do that anymore. And please don’t take a pill without eating something,” Makoto says, brow creased with concern. “Please, Sousuke. I really… really can’t tell you how much that scares me to hear you describe that.”

Makoto reaches back into his gym bag and pulls out the granola bar.

“And eat this, too,” he says. When Sousuke hesitates, he pushes it at him. “I’m serious. Please.”

Sousuke smiles, eyes softening as he takes the granola bar. Their fingers brush lightly.

“No need to beg,” he murmurs. “Thanks. I’ll eat it. And I didn’t mean to scare you. Sorry.”

“Jeez,” Makoto sighs. They resume walking. As Sousuke continues to crunch on his apple, he reaches out to take Makoto’s hand and pulls it inside his gym bag. He entwines their fingers on top of his damp towel. Makoto tenses, looking around. “Ah, wait, there are still people around--”

“Don’t care,” Sousuke says, mouth full. “It just looks like your hand is in my duffel bag.”

“That’s even worse!” Makoto whines. Sousuke laughs and squeezes his hand. “S-Sousuke, seriously, I really don’t want someone to see.”

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Sousuke releases his hand. Makoto pulls it out of his bag, embarrassed and upset.

“Man,” Sousuke grumbles, putting his hand back in his pocket. “If one of us was a girl it wouldn’t even matter. Why do I have to look at straight couples holding hands all day? They don’t have to care if someone else sees.”

“I’m sorry,” Makoto apologizes, stricken by Sousuke’s word choice. Does he mean he wishes Makoto was a girl? Sousuke takes another bite of his apple and tosses the core into a nearby trashbin.

“Don’t be sorry,” he says. He starts unwrapping the granola bar. “Be pissed about it instead. If someone ever gave me or you shit about holding hands in public, I’d probably kick their ass.”

“That seems a little extreme,” Makoto says slowly. “It’s okay.”

“It’s _not_ okay,” Sousuke snaps. “How do you see people _literally_ making out in public and not get mad about it?”

“Well, this _is_ a college campus,” Makoto points out. “You don’t really see that anywhere else.”

“That’s beside the point,” Sousuke huffs. “The point is, we walk out holding hands, and it’s a _problem;_ a guy and a girl hold hands in public, and it’s cute. That’s such bullshit.”

Sousuke takes a big, spiteful bite out of his granola bar and instantly makes a face at it.

“…I thought this was chocolate,” he says. Makoto laughs, relieved to break tension.

“Sorry, I don’t really like the chocolate ones. I mean... I like chocolate, but when it's in a granola bar, it leaves a weird aftertaste. Oatmeal raisin is my favorite.”

Sousuke swallows and wrinkles his nose.

“Ugh… what were we talking about before I started griping?” Sousuke asks. Makoto smiles.

“Your medication,” Makoto says. Sousuke rolls his eyes.

“Oh yeah. Well, whatever. I’ll eat stuff when I take it, I promise. But not any of this oatmeal raisin crap.”

“Thank you,” Makoto says cheerfully. There’s a short pause while he smiles to himself. “And by the way… I’m happy that you’re passionate about the holding hands thing. I thought you’d be embarrassed to hold my hand.”

“Of course I’m not embarrassed to hold your hand,” Sousuke says incredulously. A piece of granola flies from his mouth and he clears his throat awkwardly. Makoto giggles, making Sousuke blush ever so slightly. Swallowing, he looks over at Makoto. “Why would I be embarrassed?”

“Well…” Makoto trails off, thinking back to Sousuke’s hesitance to have sex. Again he feels discomfort brewing in the pit of his belly. Sousuke wants to hold his hand, so he must not be _repelled_ by Makoto. It’s not that he’s ashamed of their relationship or scared of other people knowing, so why?

_Why?_

“I don’t know,” Makoto says weakly. He looks down at the ground. He wants to ask Sousuke why he doesn’t want to have sex. But if he does, Sousuke might think he’s trying to pressure him into it, which might end in a fight. Maybe a big fight. Maybe enough to ruin their relationship. Makoto tenses and looks away.

They get to Makoto’s dorm and stop outside the entrance. Since it’s past ten, he’ll have to check in at the front desk with his student ID. Sousuke, as an off-campus student, would have to show both his ID and his driver’s license just to get past the lobby.

“You sure you don’t want to spend the night?” Sousuke asks. He looks a little sullen, perhaps sad to say goodbye? Makoto smiles gently at him, flattered, but shakes his head.

“Not tonight. I have to finish reading that novel for English literature by Thursday, so I have to keep on top of it,” Makoto says. Sousuke scowls a little.

“Ah, jeez. Fine. Text me when you wake up,” Sousuke says. “If you don’t, I’ll assume you missed your alarm, and I’ll call you ‘til you get up.”

Laughing, Makoto nods.

“Yes, yes! I promise I will,” he says. Sousuke gives him a little smile, but it fades as he looks at him thoughtfully.

“Hey, one more question,” Sousuke says slowly. “When we were swimming tonight... did you... see anything?”

“Did I see anything?” Makoto echoes. The image of the whale shark swimming along beside him comes to mind. He shuffles a little on his feet and gives a coy shrug. “Hm. What do you mean by that?”

“Shit. Well,” Sousuke begins huffily. The blush beneath his eyes grows bigger and he rubs the back of his neck. “Uh… well, like, I thought… for just a split second, I thought… I could see… never mind, it’s stupid.”

“No, you can tell me. Please?” Makoto pleads. Sousuke heaves a sigh.

“I thought I saw an orca. Like an actual killer whale. Or something like that,” Sousuke grumbles. Makoto giggles and Sousuke hunches his shoulder and glowers. “Oi. Don’t laugh at me.”

“No, I saw something, too,” Makoto says. Sousuke blinks and a slow smile spreads across his face.

“Yeah? What was it?”

“I think I saw a whale shark,” Makoto admits. He smiles bashfully. He hears Sousuke inhale, his breath shaking ever so slightly.

“I see,” Sousuke says softly. They laugh together like they’re in on some sort of inside joke. Gravitating naturally towards each other, their foreheads touch. As he brushes their noses together, Sousuke reaches up to tenderly cup Makoto’s neck in his hands. Makoto feels Sousuke’s warm breath fan across his lips, making his eyelids flutter.

“Someone might see,” he whispers. Sousuke nods and pulls away, but grabs Makoto’s wrist and pulls him into the dormitory’s shadow. Before Makoto can say a word, Sousuke backs him into the wall and returns his hands to his neck, massaging his adam’s apple with his thumbs. Makoto’s hands slide down to his hips, tracing the curve of his waist along the way. They kiss slowly, gently, before Makoto feels the familiar swipe of Sousuke’s tongue against his lip. He lets him in, melting in his arms. The fingers around his throat ripple, making Makoto gasp. He tightens his grip on Sousuke’s hips.

Things are just starting to get intense when Sousuke’s duffel bag slips off his shoulder and drops to the ground. Their lips part with a wet _pop,_ and Sousuke curses softly. Makoto leans his head against the wall and focuses on breathing. The arousal from earlier is stirring again, and he already knows he won’t be able to focus on reading his novel tonight.

Sousuke stoops to pick up his bag and puts it back on his shoulder, looking regretful. The light from a sidewalk lamp is just barely illuminating his face; he looks beautifully dangerous in the darkness. Makoto feels another throb pulse through his body, and he bites his lip.

“Goodnight,” Sousuke murmurs. He leans in for one more peck on the cheek. “See you tomorrow.”

“…Yeah,” Makoto breathes, shutting his eyes to regain composure. He hears Sousuke hesitate, let out a long sigh, and start down the sidewalk in the direction of the parking garage. As soon as he’s gone, Makoto opens his eyes and slides down the wall. He squats there for a moment.

He doesn’t even know if he’ll be able to make it to his room.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friends [Diana](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com) and [Codango](https://codango.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	24. Chapter 24

The moment Makoto gets to his room, his clothes come off. He doesn’t even bother folding them as he flings his shirt to the floor, steps out of his jeans and briefs, and toes off his socks and shoes. He crawls into bed naked and huddles under the covers. Taking a moment to just breathe and think about everything that’s happened, his mind lingers on the hot moment in the pool.

If he closes his eyes, he can still feel the light scratch of his jammers against his erection. He curls up into a ball on his side and bites his lip as he rhythmically clenches his hips and ass. His cock, already half-hard, twitches between his legs.

Masturbation isn’t a normal occurrence for him. Growing up with two little siblings can do that to a guy. It feels foreign when he palms himself, making him grimace. He gets out of bed, awkwardly shuffles to his desk, and picks up his laptop. He lies back on the bed, the laptop open on his chest.

Gay porn isn’t hard to find. Plugging in some earbuds, Makoto swallows hard and watches as he strokes himself. Within moments, he knows this isn’t at all what he wants. It’s too fake, and he’s pretty sure the guy in the video isn’t using lube. Makoto may not know a lot about sex, but he knows it requires a liberal amount of lubrication.

He’s rather soft now. Groaning in frustration, he moves his laptop to the bed and curls up on his side. What else is there to look at? He could probably just think about Sousuke and be just fine, but he wants more. He wants to hear it, needs to visualize it. He needs Sousuke.

Not knowing what else to do, Makoto digs his phone out from under his pillow and scrolls through his saved photos. There are at least a hundred, most of them pictures of himself or Sousuke or both of them together. Obviously, most aren’t that sexy. There are a few shots of campus buildings that he emailed to his parents, and another handful are blurry pictures of himself trying to grab his phone after Sato had stolen it.

Makoto swipes through the pictures and is about to try masturbating to a photo of Sousuke’s bare back when his phone vibrates. Sousuke’s calling him. Makoto fumbles the phone a little in surprise but manages to pick up.

“Sousuke?” he asks breathlessly. Sousuke’s laugh is low.

_“Hey. I made it home safe. You in bed?”_

“Mhm,” Makoto hums. He nuzzles his pillow and smiles. In the background, he can hear a car door shut, followed by footsteps and the sound of wooden stairs creaking as Sousuke heads up to his second-floor apartment. Makoto shuts his eyes and visualizes it all, comforted by the familiarity of the sounds. “Thanks for calling to tell me that.”

 _“You seemed upset about something when I left, so I thought I’d call you,”_ Sousuke says. Makoto hears the jingling of keys before a door opens. _“Everything okay?”_

“I’m… I’m fine,” Makoto says slowly. Sousuke sighs. A door shuts.

_“Liar. Are you still upset about what happened at the pool?”_

“A little,” Makoto mumbles.

 _“I thought so. I wanted to talk about it on the way home, but I got a little sidetracked, obviously._ _Like I said, it happens.”_

“But it was right after… well, earlier today we talked about…” Makoto trails off. Sousuke waits for him to finish, but he can’t say it without feeling incredibly embarrassed.

 _“The sex thing?”_ Sousuke asks. Makoto blushes and makes a little sound in the back of his throat.

“Y-Yeah,” he whispers. He nibbles his index finger and pulls the blanket up until only the top of his head is uncovered. “Sousuke, I…”

He tries to say it out loud, but the words won’t come. Breathing out through his nose, he shuts his mouth again and curls up into a tighter ball.

_“Makoto? You still there?”_

“Sorry,” Makoto says. He takes a deep breath. “I-I was worried you felt like I was pushing you to do things you don’t want to do, but…”

He doesn’t tell him how much he wants him, even though the words buzz on the tip of his tongue. Makoto gulps and puts his hand over his heart as it thumps painfully against his chest.

“ _I didn’t feel that way_ ,” Sousuke laughs softly. _“Seriously.”_

“You can tell me,” Makoto blurts. “…T-The problem, I mean. The reason you don’t want to have sex. If you want.”

Feeling terrible, Makoto bites his lip and squeezes his eyes shut. What is he even _doing?_ Sousuke made it clear he’s not ready, but...

 _“I’d really rather not talk about it,”_ Sousuke says after a long pause. His voice sounds a little strained. A ball of anxiety forms in the pit of Makoto’s belly. _“Sorry. Is that okay?”_

Makoto almost says no. It isn’t okay at all.

“I suppose.”

 _“Okay. I’m going to let you read now,”_ Sousuke says. Makoto’s heart sinks. He doesn’t want to say goodbye yet. _“Goodnight.”_

“Goodnight,” Makoto says. He clears his throat and, in a tiny voice, says, “I love you.”

 _“Mmm. Love you too,”_ Sousuke murmurs. His voice is beautifully soft when he says it, sending a shiver right down Makoto’s spine. _“Bye.”_

“Bye.”

Makoto keeps the phone pressed to his ear until the line goes silent. When he pulls the phone away, he’s back on the home screen. Feeling lonely, Makoto buries his face in his pillow and trails his fingertips down his body. He imagines that they’re Sousuke’s fingers and slowly immerses himself in the fantasy. Gradually, his body responds to his touches and his breathing picks up. Eyes squeezed shut, he reaches down and wraps his fingers around his hardening shaft.

“Mm,” he hums softly. Bringing his free hand to his lips, he kisses the back of his wrist, trying to imagine Sousuke’s mouth. After a moment, he kicks off the sheets and rolls onto his back. The sudden chill against his cock jars him partially out of his fantasy and, not wanting to lose his erection again, Makoto pumps himself hard and fast. The uncomfortable over-stimulation makes his hips jerk and the muscles in his thighs twitch in pain, but he’s determined to finish this.

Without the sensuality, his orgasm is short-lived and disappointing. He doesn’t feel the hot pressure in his hips, nor the tingling in his thighs. It spills over the same way it always does whenever he just ‘takes care of it’. In fact, his orgasm leaves him even more unsatisfied and frustrated than before. His dick is flaccid before he even decides if it’s worth it to try again.

Fed up and tired, Makoto shifts his body so he’s not lying where the sheets are damp with his sweat. He closes his eyes and drifts into uneasy slumber.

\---

“Haru, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something,” Makoto says from the living room. He’s sitting with his textbooks spread out around him. It’s the weekend, and he’s spending it with Haru. He taps his pencil on a book as he waits for Haru’s response.

“What is it?” Haru asks. He’s in the kitchen. Something smells delicious, and Makoto’s mouth waters.

“Well, it’s about Sousuke,” Makoto begins. Haru comes around the corner with dishes in hand, looking annoyed at the mention of Sousuke. He sets Makoto’s plate down with a louder thud than necessary. Makoto picks up his chopsticks and puts his hands together. “Thank you for the meal.”

“Did he hurt you?” Haru asks immediately. Makoto furrows his brow.

“No,” he says somewhat defensively. Haru kneels down in front of his meal and starts poking at it with a strange expression on his face.

“Then what’s going on?” he asks quietly. Makoto hums and nervously taps his chopsticks on the side of the plate.

“W-Well… we’ve been dating for almost a year now, right?” Makoto asks. Haru nods, but he doesn’t look happy about it. “Next week Friday is our anniversary, too. But… well, we haven’t… done certain things.”

“What?” Haru deadpans. He slaps his chopsticks on the table, and Makoto flails.

“W-W-W- _Well_ , a man thinks about these things!” Makoto cries. “I’m not a little kid, I have desires, and…”

“You’re saying you and Yamazaki haven’t had sex,” Haru states. Makoto’s face burns. “But _you_ want to have sex.”

“It’s… well, it’s not _just_ that. He says he isn’t ready but isn’t telling me why. I don’t want to pressure him, I just… well, a few nights ago I tried to talk about it, and he said he didn’t want to. That makes me think there’s something really wrong, and it has something to do with me. And if it doesn’t have anything to do with me, he doesn’t trust me enough to let me in.”

“I see,” Haru says. He takes a bite from his dinner and glares at the table. Makoto squirms in discomfort. Haru is naturally a man of few words, but usually not this few. He seems more irritated than usual. Makoto wishes he knew why. Obviously part of it has to do with Sousuke, there’s no doubt about that, but there’s definitely something else bugging him. Makoto tries to ignore it, not wanting to set Haru off.

“I’m just nervous, is all. I mean, what if he’s hurt or something? Or something bad happened to him? And if it’s me, what did I do wrong? What _am_ I doing wrong?”

Haru looks up, and Makoto is shocked to see the raw anger on his face.

“Don’t say that,” he says sharply. “Don’t… just assume it’s something _you’re_ doing wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s keeping secrets from you!” Haru exclaims. “ _Again_. And I don’t like it at all. He takes up _all_ of your time, and then he goes and makes you feel bad about yourself? Unbelievable.”

Haru takes a big bite of his dinner and chews in cold silence. Makoto blinks, confused. No one has blamed anything else but his own communication problem until now.

“Stop blaming only yourself,” Haru repeats, quiet again. Makoto hunches his shoulders and looks down at his plate. He doesn’t have an appetite anymore. Instead, doubt swims in his belly.

“Everyone says I’m bad at communicating,” he laughs humorlessly.

“You _are_. And that’s part of the problem, but that doesn’t mean Yamazaki doesn’t have _just_ as much responsibility for the relationship,” Haru says harshly. Makoto’s frown deepens. “You two just aren’t compatible. You don’t deserve to be treated like that. He doesn’t deserve to have someone as good as you.”

Makoto’s head snaps up at that, but Haru is already getting to his feet and grabbing his dishes. Haru didn’t even finish his mackerel. He marches to the kitchen, and Makoto hears him roughly throwing things away and tossing his plate into the sink. He’s making an awful lot of noise, and it makes Makoto nervous. He hasn’t seen Haru this upset in a while.

When Haru comes back, Makoto stares up at his best friend. He’s tense, his fists clenched at his sides and his nostrils flaring. Letting out a shaky sigh, Makoto looks down at the floor.

“I don’t think I deserve him. He’s _too_ good for someone like me,” he whispers. “That’s why I’m afraid of the reason he doesn’t want to have sex. I know he isn’t disgusted by me. I know he isn’t embarrassed of me. He kisses me like he wants me. But is it really enough? Is it my hair, my face? Am I not fit enough? Am I _too_ fit? Is my voice annoying? Is it because I don’t have a girl’s body? I really don’t think I’m _ugly_ or anything, but I’m afraid of being too average or too masculine for someone as beautiful as he is.”

“Makoto, stop,” Haru says, slowly sinking down to kneel beside him. Makoto looks to him, heartbroken, and Haru’s gaze softens. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I’m scared to talk to him,” Makoto whimpers. He looks down at his fists clenched tightly on his thighs. Haru puts his hand on his back. “Last time I confronted someone seriously, I…”

He trails off, mouth opening and closing in silence.

“I didn’t need time away from Japan because of you,” Haru murmurs, rubbing his back. Makoto shuts his eyes tight, his heart throbbing painfully in his chest.

“But I triggered it! I was the one who…” Makoto can’t finish, his voice breaking. He doesn’t want to think about this. He can still remember screaming at Haru, and it still fills him with an uncomfortable searing heat. Is it embarrassment? Regret? He can’t tell.

“Makoto,” Haru whispers. He rubs his back some more. “I’m sorry. I said too much. But please don’t say things like that about yourself. There’s no one alive who is ‘too good’ for you.”

Makoto swallows hard, his throat tight. He looks up at Haru, lost.

“Then what do I do?” he asks. Haru sighs, leans against Makoto’s shoulder, and snakes an arm around his waist as he thinks.

“Well… obviously this isn’t just about the sex,” he says. “But if he can’t sexually satisfy you, then I really don’t think you should stay with him. Even if you… love him, if he isn’t sexually compatible, what’s the point?”

“Sex isn’t that important…” Makoto trails off. Haru rolls his eyes and lets out a soft laugh.

“Liar,” he says. He pauses for a long time. Makoto peers at Haru, unable to decipher what he’s thinking. Finally, Haru speaks, his face carefully blank, “Why don't you find someone?”

“Huh?”

“If you need help,” Haru says. "If you need to relieve yourself, couldn't you find someone? Like one of your friends from school. Someone you can trust, of course. Your friend, 'Sato-san'?”

Makoto starts to laugh, unable to control himself as he claps his hand over his mouth. Haru scowls at him.

“I’m… I’m serious. Wouldn't it make you feel better?” he says. His hand drops from Makoto’s waist and he crosses his arms. Makoto smiles at his best friend.

“You mean find someone to have sex with me? That’s… so like you to say something like that so bluntly,” Makoto giggles. He reaches out to squeeze Haru’s arm.

“Not have sex with you,” Haru corrects quickly. “Just... help you not be so pent up. With their hand maybe.”

Makoto flushes red and looks away.

“But wouldn’t that be weird?”

“I don't see why. It's just sex."

“I don’t… I don’t think so,” Makoto says. He rubs his face with his hands. “Ugh, Haru, that’s so weird.”

“Obviously this means a lot to you. I could even help you find someone. Maybe Rin or Nagisa could do it for you. Or... well, I'd rather not, but I...” Haru offers awkwardly, obviously discomforted. “I don’t like to see you so worked up like this. It might help.”

“…I can’t,” Makoto says firmly. “I really can’t. I feel like it would… I don’t know. I couldn’t do something like that behind Sousuke’s back. I already feel like he doesn’t trust me one hundred percent, and this would just make it worse because it’d give him a _reason_ not to trust me.”

“Even if it’s just to help you masturbate?” Haru asks, incredulous. Makoto hugs himself.

“It’s shameful how tempted I am,” he says honestly, nibbling his bottom lip. “I want to say yes _really_ badly, but I _really_ shouldn’t.”

“Honestly,” Haru sighs. He gives him a tiny smile. “Relax. I won’t pressure you.”

“Thank you,” Makoto says, shoulders slumping. “For me, sex is all about bonding and making a really important connection with the person you love. I know that’s not how you see it at all, but…”

“I don’t understand it,” Haru agrees, shrugging. “But I won’t question it. Just… Makoto?”

“Yes?”

“If he can’t satisfy you… please, don’t keep hurting yourself. Just end it,” he says. Makoto is about to get defensive, but Haru’s face is full of genuine concern. “I’m worried.”

Makoto opens and closes his mouth again, torn. Haru’s right about one thing. Sex is important to him, and if Sousuke can’t give him that, then maybe it _is_ better to just end it.

“And another thing,” Haru says. He crosses his arms, looking at Makoto sternly. “If he loves you, he should make you feel good about yourself. You shouldn’t be having these doubts about what you look like.”

Makoto tucks a sandy brown lock of hair behind his ear, shrugging.

“Up until _now_ it wasn’t a problem,” he says, making a hopeless gesture with his hands. “It’s almost as if his physical attraction to me cuts off at the point where we’re about to get naked. And… and that makes me think that it really _is_ because I’m a man.”

Makoto looks down at himself. The fear of rejection hasn’t had such a firm grip on his heart in over a year now. It feels foreign, cold, and unwelcome in his body.

“Ugh. I wish we could go back to when we were both too busy to even _begin_ to think about having sex,” Makoto laments. He goes quiet. “…I wish I was a girl.”

“Don’t say that,” Haru hisses. Makoto looks at him, surprised to see his best friend’s eyes beginning to shimmer. “Is Yamazaki seriously making you wish that?”

Makoto, shocked, waves his hands frantically.

“No, no! He never said anything like that, and he… I just… I was just thinking that maybe it’d be easier to be a girl. Girls are soft and small and pretty.”

“You _are_ soft,” Haru counters. “In more ways than one. You’re pretty, too. And who cares about being small? You can reach things that are high up.”

Makoto giggles, and Haru glowers at him.

“Don’t laugh. I’m serious!” he blurts. Makoto smiles at him.

“Haru-chan, you’re so good to me,” he coos. Haru huffs and crosses his arms.

“Because I care about you. And quit calling me that,” he says. He looks away, grumbling. “Stupid Makoto.”

“Um, Haru?” Makoto asks. Haru doesn’t look at him, but he tilts his head. “This is a weird question, but can I ask why you’ve been acting kinda angry with me lately? I mean…”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Haru asks, irritation in his voice. “Yamazaki takes up all of your time. And you let him.”

“Huh?”

“He monopolizes you,” Haru mutters. His crossed arms tighten. Makoto hums, frowning.

“I had no idea you thought--”

“We promised each other we’d be more honest with each other, didn’t we?” Haru asks quietly. “This is me being honest with you. I was really angry when you didn’t celebrate with us after I won that tournament. It was just a Skype party, but it was the first gold medal I’d won since starting professional swimming. Maybe back in high school I wouldn’t have cared. But now I _do_ care about records and times, and I was proud. It was a big step towards qualifying for the Japanese Olympic team next year. And you blew it off. To be with Yamazaki.”

Haru chokes out the last part like it took a lot out of him to get that off his chest. Makoto fidgets, looking down.

“You’re right. That was an awful thing to do,” he admits. “I’m so sorry.”

“Is Yamazaki more important to you than I am?” Haru asks slowly. The question catches Makoto off guard, and he stiffens. He can’t answer. They’re both equally important to him in completely different ways. He catches Haru’s eyes, hoping he can convey this to him, and Haru just looks down. “Never mind. I don’t think I want to know the answer.”

“Hold on,” Makoto says hurriedly, catching Haru’s hand as he starts to stand. “Now just wait. You two mean different things to me. I love you in a friendly way. And I love Sousuke in a… a boyfriend way. It’s equal. That was kind of a mean and unfair question, Haru.”

“…I guess,” Haru says. He doesn’t look Makoto in the eye, and instead pulls his hand out of Makoto’s grasp and stands. “Sorry.”

After that, things… _kind of_ get back to normal. Makoto sleeps over that night in a separate futon and wakes up the next morning to find he had migrated to Haru’s futon and started spooning him. Haru awakens, complains about the heat, and retires to the bathroom to soak in cold water.

It’s not over. Makoto can feel it. In regards to the situation with Haru, he has only just trimmed the weeds, making them manageable. However, he knows, before long, they will grow again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friends [Diana](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com) and [Codango](https://codango.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	25. Chapter 25

The weekend crawls by, and the tension Makoto feels grows and grows. He tries masturbating any way he can: face up, face down, on his side, upside-down (it ends awfully), but cannot get satisfaction. It’s just too awkward, too unlike him, and he always feels as though he’s being watched or something. He knows he isn’t, especially when there’s really no place to hide in his dorm room and his door is most certainly locked, but he still gets an awful, twisting sensation in his gut when he tries.

He really regrets not taking up Haru’s offer, but it’s too late now. Haru’s in Germany for an international tournament for a couple weeks, leaving Makoto dangerously pent up. It gets so bad that, when the school week begins, he sort of avoids Sousuke. Fortunately, Sousuke has a busy week with his biology lab (a general education requirement he absolutely despises), so his effort goes pretty much unnoticed.

On Wednesday afternoon, he meets up with Sato in a student lounge in the humanities building. It’s a quiet little room perfect for studying, but Makoto really can’t focus. The constant, untamed frustration he feels is making the days blend together, as if his body is just waiting for the next day to pass.

“Mako-kun, you look really horny.”

Makoto jumps violently, not realizing he’d been nibbling on his pencil. He flings it away from him, and Sato grimaces as it lands on her textbook and gets saliva on the page.

“Sato-saaan,” Makoto whines. He slaps his hands over his face as Sato flicks the pencil off her book.

“Have you ever even seen the faces you make?” Sato asks. “I’m serious, it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. Hold on.”

Sato digs around in her purse and pulls out a little compact mirror. She opens it and turns it towards Makoto. He peers at his own face. It’s quite red. His eyes are glazed over, and his lips are shining. Moaning, Makoto looks away in shame. If his family ever saw him like this, he’d probably die of embarrassment.

“So I take it you _still_ haven’t talked to Sousuke-kun about this problem,” Sato says dryly. “Did you at least talk to Haru-kun?”

Makoto nods and fidgets.

“He said I should break up with Sousuke if we’re not sexually compatible. We kinda had a fight about it, actually,” Makoto mumbles. Sato frowns.

“He must’ve never seen you guys together, because up until a few days ago I assumed you guys were doin’ it like rabbits,” Sato says. Makoto puts his head down on his textbook and doesn’t come back up. “ _Honestly_. Now this situation is bugging me, too.”

“Maybe he doesn’t find me attractive?” Makoto says, muffled by his textbook. Sato scoffs.

“Bullshit.”

“Is he scared of _sex?_ ” Makoto asks, lifting his head. “Maybe he’s scared of being the bottom or something.”

“Well, would you _want_ him to be the bottom?” Sato asks. Makoto pinches his lips together.

“If it would make him feel comfortable, I wouldn’t mind being on the bottom. I’ve thought about it both ways. I don’t care at this point, I just want to…” he trails off and bites his lip. “Yeah.”

“Sousuke-kun doesn’t seem like the type to worry about that kinda stuff, though,” Sato points out. Makoto considers it for a moment and shakes his head.

“No, I think he would. He gets anxious about a lot of things and doesn’t show it until he’s out of sight,” Makoto says with a sigh. “It’s _exactly_ like him to hide things that make him nervous.”

He rests his chin on his textbook and breathes out through his nose, pouting.

“I just don’t know. Maybe Haru is right. Do you think it’d be best to… to just break it off?”

Sato’s eyes soften as she smiles.

“No, Mako-kun, because it looks like you’re about to cry just thinking about it,” she says gently. Makoto lays  his cheek flat on the textbook. The page feels cool on his hot skin.

“I don’t know what to do. I really, really need to…”

Beneath the table, Makoto presses his thighs together. There’s an unrelenting pressure in his tummy that’s radiating heat all throughout his body.

“We can have sex if you want.”

Makoto looks up, shocked. Sato looks evenly back at him and shrugs as Makoto’s face burns red. He slaps his hands over his eyes.

“Why is everyone _except_ Sousuke so casual about sex?!” he wails. Sato laughs.

“I mean it, though! If you need it that badly, I wouldn’t mind. It’d be a friend helping out a friend.”

“How can you be so casual about it?” Makoto asks. Sato shrugs and smiles.

“It’s not a big deal. Sex is just sex. It’s about feeling good.”

“But don’t you care about bonding or anything like that?” Makoto asks. Sato hums thoughtfully.

“Some people might feel that way, but not me. There’s no need for sex to be romantic, in my opinion,” Sato says. Makoto heaves a great sigh.

“Thank you, Sato-san, but I’ll pass,” he says with an apologetic smile. “It means a lot more to me than that.”

“Well, what are you going to do about it?” Sato asks. She puts her chin in her palm and grins slyly at Makoto. “You’re still really horny, aren’t you?”

“Please don’t say that word,” Makoto groans.

“Jerking off hasn’t been helping you at all?”

“Please don’t say _that_ either!”

“But has it been helping?”

Makoto pushes out his lower lip, rubbing his legs together.

“No… it hasn’t. I just can’t visualize it. I’ve tried everything,” Makoto says. “To be honest, I haven’t… been very successful.”

“Whaaat?” Sato drawls. “Have you tried…?”

She holds out her hand and makes an obscene gesture with her first two fingers. Makoto blushes furiously and covers his mouth with his hand.

“N-No… I haven’t tried putting anything in at all,” Makoto admits. Sato shakes her head.

“People with penises just don’t know how to enjoy their own bodies,” Sato sighs. “Do I really need to have the anatomy talk with you? I’m pretty sure we had a class together about this.”

“No!” Makoto says. “I know about… the…”

“Prostate,” Sato supplies. “You should see how red your face is right now.”

“This is the worst conversation ever,” Makoto whines. “Sato-san, why do you know more about my body than I do?”

“Introduction to Human Sexuality,” Sato chirps. “It’s a required course for the gender studies program. You should take it! I learned a lot.”

I see,” Makoto laughs nervously. That sounds like something he absolutely, one hundred percent, could never do.

“Also, there’s a sex shop in Shinjuku that’s not too far from Ichigaya, if you want to--”

“ _No way_ ,” Makoto interrupts.

“Aww,” Sato coos. “That’s too bad! There are tons of toys you can play with. Stuff to help you enjoy yourself more. You don’t even have to go to the counter if you don’t want to, I can do it for you. Eh? Ehhhh?”

“Nooo!” Makoto cries. Sato huffs and purses her lips.

“But there are lollipops shaped like penises,” Sato singsongs, wiggling her eyebrows. Makoto’s eyes go wide, and he slowly leans in.

“They _make_ those?” he whispers. Sato cheers in triumph.

“You’re curious! Let’s go!” she shouts, jumping out of her chair and running around the table to grab Makoto’s arm. “Let’s go, let’s go!”

“Fine, _fine!_ ” Makoto moans. “But just to look. That’s it!”

\---

If there was a competition for regret, Makoto would get first place. The sex store, entitled simply _Shinjuku Sex_ , is a small building located in the neighborhood’s entertainment sector. Here, several blocks away from the business district, there are quite a few love hotels and sleazy bars and adult theaters that have Makoto flushing red at every turn.

He sticks out like a sore thumb. His conservative white dress shirt and dark jeans don’t match up at all with the eccentric clothing everyone else in this part of town is wearing. Even Sato looks more natural than Makoto does with her short shorts and her bare midriff.

“Sato-san, I don’t think I want to do this anymore,” Makoto laughs nervously, looking up at the sign hanging above _Shinjuku Sex_. There’s a cartoon penis smiling down at him.

“C’mon, don’t be a party pooper,” Sato insists. She grabs his hand and drags him through the door. Makoto digs in his heels, but Sato doesn’t release him until they’re inside.

It’s a pretty big store. The lights are dim, and indie music plays softly in the background. There’s a faint, warm smell of cinnamon. The female cashier has numerous piercings all over her face, tattoo sleeves, and a partially shaved head. She looks bored as she hands a massive vibrator and riding crop to a couple at the counter. When she glances at him, Makoto looks away sharply and blushes.

“Excuse me,” someone says behind him. Jumping out of the way of the door, Makoto clings to Sato’s purse strap and lets a man with neon blue hair and massive headphones around his neck pass him.

“I don’t think I belong here,” Makoto whispers in Sato’s ear, shuffling behind her and trying to make himself as small as possible. Sato goes to a wall of posters with a big sample book and a bin full of color-coded poster rolls. Sato opens the book and lands on a picture of a naked woman with her legs spread wide open. Sato barks out a laugh. Makoto squeals and covers his eyes. “Sato-san!”

“Sorry, sorry. You would probably prefer something like this,” Sato says. Makoto peeks through his fingers as Sato flips to the next page. It’s the profile of a man from the neck down, naked and erect with his hand around his—

Makoto closes his fingers again, but the image is painted behind his eyelids. Swallowing heavily, he tugs at Sato’s purse strap.

“Can we please not look at these?” he whimpers. Sato giggles.

“Okay, okay. Come over here,” she says. Pulling on Makoto’s arm, she brings him to a wall of penetration toys. Makoto blushes and squirms as Sato nonchalantly pulls two packages from the shelf. She shows them to Makoto. “What would you prefer, realistic or fantasy?”

“I-I-I-I--” Makoto stammers.

“The realistic ones are kinda boring, but if you’re a beginner, it’s a good place to start,” Sato explains. She weighs the packaged toys in her hands. “And you might not even want a dildo to start off. My first was just a regular old vibrator.”

As she talks, she waves something suspiciously tentacle-shaped around. Fed up, Makoto grabs her wrist and pulls it out of her hand. Just as he does, a couple of girls pass and giggle at him. Mortified, Makoto shoves the package back onto the shelf and wipes his hands on his pants like he touched something dirty.

“Look, Sato-san, I appreciate what you’re doing, but this is _really_ embarrassing,” Makoto moans. Sato frowns at him.

“Okay, okay. We can leave. But can I show you _one_ more thing?” Sato asks. She puts her hands together. “Please? Pleeease. It’ll only take one minute.”

“I don’t actually want to look at the lollipops,” Makoto groans.

“It’s not the lollipops! C’mere,” Sato says. She pulls Makoto to a big stand absolutely packed with colored plastic tubes. “These are different flavored lubes!”

“Flavors?” Makoto asks. These are much less embarrassing to look at. Even though he’s still trembling with humiliation, he can actually look at these without wanting to die. There are a plethora of different flavors. Coconut, cherry, watermelon, and apple are some of the normal flavors, but there are strange ones here, too.

“Oh my god, look, this one is literally just ‘ass’ flavored,” Sato laughs, pulling one of the tubes from the shelf. Makoto peeks at it and sure enough, the label reads _ASS_.

“Gross,” Makoto giggles. He looks back at the stand and bends down a little to get a closer look at the lower ones. “Licorice, chocolate… even popcorn.”

“Butter,” Sato throws in. The two of them entertain themselves by reading the names out loud, and within moments they’re in tears with laughter.

“Jeez,” Makoto says, scrubbing at his eyes and sniffing. “They all sound horrible.”

“Which one do you think you’d like the best?” Sato asks. Makoto grimaces.

“You’re not supposed to eat it, are you?” he asks. Sato snorts.

“No, no. Well, unless you want to, I guess. It’s mostly for the smell, I think,” she explains. “So really, which one do you think would smell the best?”

“Hmm,” Makoto hums, tapping his finger on his lip. “Probably this vanilla one.”

Sato glances left and right, grabs the vanilla lube bottle, and pops open the cap. She brings it to her nose and takes a long whiff.

“Ew, Sato-san!” Makoto hisses. Sato quickly caps it again.

“It kinda smells like a candle,” she says. “One of those candles that smell liked baked stuff. Maybe cocoa butter? It smells good. Good choice, Mako-kun. This is the one I’ll buy for you.”

“W-W-Wait, what?!” Makoto cries. Sato gives him a big wink.

“No buts! You deserve to enjoy yourself. Lube is nice to have,” Sato assures him. “Trust me! Consider it a super, super, _super_ late Christmas present.”

“Ugh, fine, but I don’t want to go up to the counter,” Makoto mumbles. “The cashier girl is scary.”

“Aw,” Sato croons. She reaches down to hold Makoto’s hand and squeezes it. “You’re so cute, Mako-kun. Want to look at some more stuff?”

“I thought we were going to leave right after this,” Makoto says. He heaves a sigh. “But I guess we could look around a little more.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being here. We’re not the only ones, right? Nobody cares that we’re here,” Sato points out. Makoto looks around. Sure enough, no one is paying any attention to them at all. Feeling much better, Makoto gives Sato a shy smile.

“I suppose. But only for a little longer, okay?” he asks. Sato rolls her eyes and grins.

“It’s no use hiding your curiosity,” she teases.

Together, they continue to browse the store. Makoto still feels too embarrassed to look at most of the stuff (especially the blow up dolls), but it’s certainly not as bad as before. A few things actually strike Makoto’s interest, but he doesn’t tell Sato. He doesn’t want her buying him any more stuff like this, especially the blindfold his eyes linger on for a second too long.

“Hey, Mako-kun, what do you think about _Shibari? Kinbaku?_ ” Sato suddenly asks. Makoto looks over at Sato, eyes landing on the big box she’s holding. On the front is a female anime character tied up in a rope. Blushing, Makoto looks away.

“Um… what is that?” he asks. Sato turns the box towards her and shakes it, making the rope inside clatter around.

“It’s when you tie someone up. It’s rope bondage,” she says. Makoto pinches his lips together as his face gets even redder.

“I see,” he laughs nervously.

“Have you ever thought about something like that? I saw you staring at the ball gags,” Sato says slyly. Makoto’s ears burn.

“W-Well… maybe a little bit--”

“Oh my gosh, Mako-kun, are you a _masochist?_ ” she hisses.

“ _No!_ ” Makoto squeals. A few people look over, and he hunches his shoulders.

“You’d look really cute all tied up,” Sato muses, scratching her chin. “With a big red bow. I wonder if Sousuke-kun would be into that sort of thing.”

“I-I don’t think so, I think he’d be too impatient to tie the rope,” Makoto says. The next part slips out before he can catch it, “He’d want me to do it for him.”

“Mako-kun!” Sato practically shrieks, grabbing Makoto and shaking him. “So you’re actually a _sadist!_ ”

“ _Nooo!_ ”

“Sousuke-kun all tied up,” Sato says dreamily. “What a nice image.”

“H-Hey,” Makoto says. “Don’t get any ideas.”

“I know, I know, he’s _your_ idiot,” Sato laughs. “I was kidding. Do you want a set of these ropes, too?”

“No!”

“Aw. You must have some sort of fetish,” Sato urges. “C’mon, don’t be shy. Every good boy has a kinky side. Tell me!”

“Um…” Makoto hums. He thinks about Sousuke, about the way he kisses him. He thinks about Sousuke’s hands on his neck and about his desire to be squeezed every single time. Lifting his hand to his mouth, he strokes his first two fingers along his bottom lip and gets a glazed look in his eyes.

“There it is,” Sato says smugly. “How about I tell you my biggest fetish, and you tell me yours?”

“You have to go first,” Makoto whimpers. Sato huffs and rolls her eyes, but she smiles and leans in.

“I like latex and leather,” Sato whispers into Makoto’s ear. Confused, Makoto tilts his head.

“Like… latex gloves and leather jackets?” he asks. Sato clicks her tongue and shakes her head.

“Oh, _honey_. You’re as pure as an angel,” she laments. She puts a sly grin on her face and puts her hands on her hips. “Okay! Now you have to tell me!”

Makoto scuffs his foot, pinching his lips together. When he musters up the courage to speak, he leans in and cups his hand around Sato’s ear.

“When Sousuke kisses me, he puts his hands on my neck, and I want him to squeeze,” Makoto murmurs. Sato gasps sharply and slaps her hand over her mouth as Makoto leans away again. He frowns, nervous. “Is that really weird?”

“Like, you want him to full-on _choke_ you?” Sato asks incredulously. Makoto shakes his head.

“Um, no… but I wouldn’t mind if he kinda just… made it a tiny bit harder to breathe,” Makoto mumbles. He looks at the floor, ashamed, but Sato bounces on the balls of her feet giddily.

“Mako-kun, that’s so _naughty!_ ” she giggles, clapping her hands together.

“And I kinda like it when he pulls my hair,” Makoto coughs into his hand. Now Sato is positively vibrating with excitement.

“I had no idea you had a masochistic streak!”

“I’m _not_ a masochist,” Makoto groans. He crosses his arms and stares at the floor. He feels like everyone is staring and laughing at him, even though no one is looking at him except Sato.

“It sounds like you _are_ ,” Sato teases. “Well, how about this: do you want to be _punished_ , or do you want to be _controlled?_ ”

The words _punished_ and _controlled_ send a hot bolt of electricity through his spine. Chewing the inside of his cheek, Makoto shrugs helplessly.

“I-I…”

“Hold on. Let’s check out and talk about this somewhere else,” Sato says, glancing over at a man who’s trying to browse the rope bondage sets. Makoto trots after Sato to the counter, instinctively reaching out to hold onto her purse strap again.

He can’t look the cashier in the eye as Sato confidently smacks the tube of lubricant down on the counter. The cashier rings them up. The lube is actually pretty expensive, but Sato doesn’t blink as she pulls her wallet out of her purse. Meanwhile, the cashier peers at Makoto before jerking her thumb at him.

“Interested in any anal toys for your boyfriend? Strap-ons? Anal beads? Bondage equipment?” she asks dryly. Makoto pales and tightens his fists on Sato’s purse until his knuckles turn white. Sato just laughs.

“Oh, he’s not my boyfriend,” she says. The cashier blinks slowly.

“Ohhh. I get it. We’ve got butt plugs with tails on them and some collars with leashes for your pet.”

“Bye!” Sato says cheerfully, grabbing Makoto and dragging him out of the store. Makoto doesn’t breathe until they’re outside.

“What did she mean, ‘ _your pet’_?” Makoto whines, not really wanting to know the answer. “She was so _scary_ , Sato-san!”

“Yes, yes,” Sato laughs. “C’mon.”

She leads him around a corner and into an alley, where it’s blessedly quiet and detached from the crowd walking up and down the streets. Sato turns Makoto around and opens his backpack, tucking the lubricant inside.

“Don’t forget it’s in here,” she says. She closes Makoto’s backpack again and pats his shoulder. Makoto turns to her, a bashful look on his face.

“Thank you, Sato-san,” he mumbles. Sato grins widely.

“That wasn’t so bad, right? And you even got a present out of it!”

“Yeah, a present,” Makoto laughs flatly. “I’m just glad it’s over.”

“Did you really hate it that much?” Sato asks, looking a tad concerned as she tilts her head. Makoto sighs and smiles tiredly.

“N-No, I guess not. It was just kinda overwhelming.”

“Well, okay,” Sato says, her smile springing back. She puts her hands on her hips. “So! Where were we? You were going to tell me if you want Sousuke-kun to control you or punish you.”

Makoto squirms and wrings his hands.

“Um… I guess… I like feeling a little controlled? Kinda? Just a little bit,” Makoto manages. He swallows hard.

“That’s _just_ like you,” Sato sighs. Her smile becomes devious. “And _very_ much like Sousuke-kun, too. Very interesting.”

“Please don’t tell him!” Makoto exclaims. “Please, Sato-san, can this just be between you and me?”

“My lips are zipped,” Sato says, pulling her thumb and forefinger across her lips.

“Thank you,” Makoto says, relieved. Sato gives him a toothy grin.

“When Sousuke-kun comes to his senses, just make sure you let him in on those _little secrets_ of yours, Mako-kun.”

“W-Well, I don’t want him to feel like he’s _obligated_ to ever have sex with me,” Makoto says timidly. His face falls, and he heaves a huge sigh. “Oh, but I want to so badly, Sato-san, I can’t stand it anymore.”

“Maybe you just need to up your sex appeal!” Sato suggests. Makoto grimaces.

“Sex appeal?” he asks. Sato nods enthusiastically.

“Yeah! We can get you all freshened up. Buy you a sexy new outfit, get your hair cut, some _real_ nice cologne… you’ll be irresistible!” she says, throwing her hands up in the air and smiling wildly. “And it’s perfect timing, too. You guys are going out on Friday, right? For your anniversary date.”

“Something like that,” Makoto says coyly, smiling to himself. “We made dinner reservations a couple weeks ago. We’re going to that Thai place in--”

Sato interrupts Makoto with a huge, dramatic gasp. She grabs his shoulders, shaking him.

“You mean _Thai Fusion?!_ ” she shrieks. “I’m so _jeeeealous!_ ”

“Yeah,” Makoto says. “We decided on it together, actually.”

“Who’s taking who out?” Sato asks.

“We kinda had a disagreement about that,” Makoto giggles. “We finally decided to just pay for each other’s meal. So we’re kinda both taking each other out?”

“That’s so _cute_!” Sato wails. “Take a picture of your dinner. And then take a picture of you and Sousuke-kun together. Send them to me so I can send them to Hana and Aiko. And I guess Kenji, too, but he probably wouldn’t care.”

“Okay, okay,” Makoto laughs. Before he can speak, Sato interrupts him again, bouncing up and down and smacking his shoulder.

“Wait, wait! Hana! I can have her come over and cut your hair for you!” Sato exclaims. Makoto’s jaw drops.

“Seriously? I thought she was a fashion design major!”

“Uh, duh? She knows everything about fashion. And hair? She’s a _master_. I’ll ask her if she can do me a favor. She really likes you, Mako-kun, so I’m a thousand percent sure she’ll be totally okay with it,” Sato says. Makoto grins, feeling a flutter of excitement in his belly.

“Sato-san, you have no idea how happy that makes me,” Makoto says softly. “I’ve… felt so self-conscious recently with the issue with Sousuke. I really want him to find me attractive.”

“And I’m sure he does. There’s absolutely no way he doesn’t find you attractive,” Sato assures him. “And when you’ve got a new haircut and clothes, you’re going to look even better. You’re going to blind him with beauty!”

Makoto laughs as Sato sings the last part and does a little spin. She takes both of Makoto’s hands in hers, smiling brightly up at him.

“Don’t worry one bit, Mako-kun. We’ll make you irresistible.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friends [Diana](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com) and [Codango](https://codango.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> A few people have brought to my attention that I wrongly defined bisexuality as ‘your own gender + another gender’, when in actuality it is ‘your own gender + other genders, whether it is 2 or more’. As such, I have changed what has been said about bisexuality in chapter 16. I apologize for the incorrect definition. This was not intentional and I take full responsibility for my actions. Once again I apologize for my actions, and anyone may feel free to approach me about incorrect definitions and I will do what I can to correct them as soon as possible. 
> 
> Also, I appreciate your support of the original version of chapter 24, but I am keeping the revision because reader comfort to me is more important. I noticed many of you brought up that Haru's revised offer seemed unlike him, so I edited it again and made it more Haru-esque. 
> 
> Thank you!

“You have such soft hair. I almost hate to cut it.”

Makoto laughs and closes his eyes while his hair is wetted down with a spray bottle. They’re all crowded in his dorm: Sato and Hana’s boyfriend sit on the bed, and Hana is stationed behind Makoto at his desk chair. A towel is spread across the floor to catch hair clippings.

“I really needed it cut,” Makoto says. Hana’s long, acrylic fingernails feel good in his hair, almost making him purr. “You feel like a real hair stylist!”

“That’s Hana for you,” Sato chirps. “Isn’t that right, Toma-kun?”

“Mm,” Toma rumbles. As Hana turns his desk chair, Makoto is able to get another glance at Hana’s boyfriend. He looks pretty scary with long black hair, scruff on his chin, multiple tattoos, and a cold look in his dark eyes. However, it turns out he’s actually very nice and soft-spoken. His phone has the same charm on it that Hana has. Makoto doesn’t know how two very different people ended up together, but he supposes the same could be said about himself and Sousuke.

Hana starts clipping, and Makoto watches as locks of his hair flutter to the floor. The speed of her scissors makes him a little nervous, but Sato says she can be trusted. He shuts his eyes and scrunches up his nose whenever a piece of hair flutters past.

“How short do you think you want it, honey?” Hana asks.

“I’m not sure! Usually I just get it trimmed,” Makoto says. Hana pauses in her cutting and hums as she plays with his bangs.

“Your style looks really nice with your face shape, so I don’t think we should do anything radically different. How about an undercut? That would look adorable on you. I’ll give you a trim and some layers, and it’ll look great! And I don’t know how you feel about dyeing your hair, but I brought stuff with me if you want to do, like, frosted tips or a streak of color,” Hana offers, twirling her scissors around on her finger. Makoto laughs shyly.

“Um, I think I’ll pass for now, but thank you.”

“Aw, okay. It’d look pretty cute on you, but I suppose it doesn’t much fit your gentle nature, Tachibana-kun. If I were to choose any color to dye it, it’d be… dark chocolate? You have such a warm face,” Hana sighs. She slides the backs of her knuckles against Makoto’s cheek and holds his chin in her hand as she studies his face in the mirror set up in front of him. “Toma, sweetheart, what do you think?”

“Mm.”

“I agree,” Hana says. The clipping continues, and in ten minutes, the haircut is complete. The undercut isn't too different from his old style. His ears feel a little cold now that they’re not covered, and he can’t tuck his hair behind his ears anymore.

“Thank you so much,” Makoto says as Hana removes the towel from around his neck and brushes a few strands of hair from his t-shirt. “I really, really appreciate it. I can pay you if you want!”

“No, no, anything for you, cutie-pie,” Hana says, patting Makoto’s head. “Just so long as I get those pictures I was promised.”

“Yes, yes,” Makoto says. Hana puts her scissors away in the tool box she brought with her and closes it.

“Lemme see!” Sato exclaims excitedly. Makoto stands and faces the bed. Sato claps, and Toma gives him a nod and a thumbs-up. “Looking great! Now put on the clothes we bought today! Hurry, hurry!”

Makoto laughs as Hana nudges him to the dresser, where a bag of new clothes waits for him. Despite his protests, she tugs his clothes off until he’s down to his briefs and starts pushing the new outfit at him. Makoto pulls on his new white slacks as fast as he can, with barely enough time to zip it up before the forest green dress shirt is shoved at him.

“Hm, Sato-chan, do you think the tousled, casual look would be better, or formal, classy look?” Hana asks, holding up a black tie. She holds it briefly to Makoto’s chest, then grabs his shoulders and turns him around to pull the tag off the back of his pants. She reminds him of his mother when she used to dress him up for fancy dinners out.

“Well, when Sousuke-kun gets him home, no tie means fewer clothes for him to take off,” Sato points out. Makoto whines and covers his face with his hands.

“Sato-san!” he cries. Hana hums thoughtfully.

“But a tie also means Sousuke-kun can _grab_ it,” she points out. Sato squeals.

“ _Oooh_ , that’s a good point!”

“ _Hana-chan, too?!_ ”

“What do you think, Toma-darling?”

“Mm.”

“You’re right,” Hana says. “I think he looks best in a formal, classy style. Toma, could you tie his tie for him? He’s too tall for me to do it right.”

Toma nods once, standing. Makoto fidgets timidly as Toma approaches him. He’s probably only about two inches taller than Makoto, but still he looms like a skyscraper. Makoto takes a deep breath and lifts his chin.

“Oooh, what a tense atmosphere,” Sato croons. Makoto pales, but Toma just pats Makoto on the head.

“Cute,” he grunts. Hana and Sato giggle as Makoto taps his fingertips together and shuffles his feet. Toma slides the tie’s knot up to rest snugly against his throat.

“You look really good in green,” Hana comments. “Especially this dark shade. Really makes your eyes pop.”

“You think so?” Makoto asks. Hana nods.

“You’re really pretty, Mako-kun,” Sato chips in. “Oh, well, you’d probably prefer handsome?”

“I don’t mind being called pretty,” Makoto says gently. Sato squeals and lifts up her phone.

“I’m going to take a picture!”

“Me too, me too!” Hana exclaims. Makoto lifts his hands in surrender as the girls snap pictures of him. Toma looks on placidly. It’s all fun and games until Makoto hears a clear knock on his door.

“Makoto? It’s me.”

“It’s Sousuke!” Makoto hisses, scrambling to shove his feet in his shoes and button the sleeves of his shirt. Sato and Hana rush around him, grabbing his watch and a box of Tic-Tacs.

“I’ve got your watch!” Sato breathes, fastening it in place. Hana jumps up to stuff four Tic-Tacs into Makoto’s mouth. Sucking furiously, Makoto gets as much mint all over his tongue as he can before swallowing them whole. Hana stuffs the Tic-Tacs in his pants pocket.

“Mints for fresh kisses!” she whispers.

“Makoto?” Sousuke’s voice asks, knocking again.

“One moment!” Makoto calls back. He splutters as Hana yanks him down by the tie and ruffles up his hair.

“Toma, the cologne!” she hisses.

“Mm.”

Toma dabs the sides of Makoto’s neck with some cologne, making Makoto’s sensitive neck tingle. They finally release him and push him towards the door.

“Good luck, Tachibana-kun!”

“You’ll get laid for sure!”

“Mm.”

The three of them duck into a dark corner as Makoto clears his throat and opens the door just a crack. Sousuke stands there, looking handsome in a pair of black slacks and a navy blue dress shirt with the first two buttons undone. Makoto can see the cord of his caduceus pendant hiding just under his shirt, which makes him inexplicably happy.

“Hi,” Makoto says breathlessly, squeezing out of his dorm and quickly closing the door before Sousuke can see the idiot squad trying to hide in his room.

“Yo,” Sousuke says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Sure was a lot of noise in there, everything alright?”

“Mhm!” Makoto says, hurriedly blocking the door and plastering a smile on his face. “I was just… finishing getting ready, is all.”

“Well, it paid off,” Sousuke whistles. “ _Damn_ , you look good. I feel underdressed. Wish I had worn a tie now.”

“I-I can take off the tie if you want!” Makoto says. Sousuke chuckles, reaching out to take the silk tie in his hands. He pulls him forward a little and kisses the fabric very lightly.

“No. I like it.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Makoto breathes.

Sousuke turns and beckons with two fingers as he walks away. Hypnotized, Makoto trots after him to the elevators, leaving his room unattended. It’ll most definitely be a problem later, but right now Makoto’s eyes are trained on the broad expanse of Sousuke’s back and how perfectly it fills out his shirt.

“You hungry?” Sousuke asks. Makoto doesn’t answer for a while and is nearly left behind when they get off the elevators. “Yo, everything okay? Are you sick or something? We don’t have to go out tonight if you’re not feeling well.”

Makoto’s lips part slowly, but no sound comes out. When they emerge from the building, he comes to a stop just under the brightly lit awning. Sousuke pauses as well, already out in the darkness.

“I was just… you… you look _really_ good,” Makoto stammers. He runs his tongue nervously across his dry lips and fidgets. He smooths his tie down over and over with his sweaty palm. “I mean, I feel like I can’t even _sit_ next to you--”

Sousuke’s hand reaches out and grabs his tie, yanking him out of the light and into the darkness. Their lips collide, and it’s shameful how quickly Makoto melts against him. His eyes roll back, and his arms loop easily around Sousuke’s neck.

But the sound of voices and footsteps approach, and they tear away from each other with an obscenely wet sound. A small group of people passes the two of them as they nervously straighten their clothes.

“What do you mean, you don’t feel like you can sit next to me?” Sousuke asks. Makoto shrugs helplessly.

“You’re just…” Makoto trails off. Biting his lip, he lets his eyes wander over Sousuke’s body. God. _God._ “…You’re so… _you_ , and I’m just--”

“Shut up,” Sousuke says before Makoto can continue. Makoto cringes at first, but then sees Sousuke’s teasing grin. “You’re not the only one who’s feeling a bit starstruck.”

Makoto’s heart does a backflip. He’s too surprised to care when Sousuke boldly takes his hand and leads him proudly to the parking lot. They pass a group of people getting out of a car and talking loudly. Makoto’s about to pull his hand away, but Sousuke just shifts his grip and tightly intertwines their fingers. Makoto tenses as one of the girls happens to glance at their joined hands.

Nothing happens. She just looks away again, laughing at something her friend said.

Sousuke leads Makoto to his car and even opens the passenger door for him. Makoto squeezes his hands between his thighs as Sousuke shuts the door and walks around to the driver’s side. He gets in the car, and they sit there in silence for a few long moments.

“Did you see that? They didn’t care,” Makoto whispers, as if someone could hear them through the windows. Sousuke laughs as he starts his car and buckles his seatbelt.

“I know,” Sousuke says. He glances at Makoto. “Seatbelt?”

“Oh. Yeah,” Makoto says, fumbling for the buckle. Sousuke pulls out of the parking lot and sets his arm on the center armrest.

Makoto eyes Sousuke’s hand and rubs his palms together. It’s ridiculous that now, an entire year into this relationship, he still feels nervous to hold Sousuke’s hand. What if he needs to shift gears? It’d be awkward for both of them, so maybe—

“Honestly,” Sousuke huffs. He reaches over and snatches up Makoto’s hand. He holds it firmly on the armrest. “No need to be shy. It’s been a year, hasn’t it?”

“I…” Makoto begins. Sousuke’s right. And even though he’s humbled and completely stricken by Sousuke’s beauty today, it’s still his boyfriend under that dapper attire. His boyfriend, who complains every time he has to do homework, who sings when he doesn’t think Makoto is listening, who throws a sheet over a lamp in his living room to create a mood when they eat in. He’s no stranger.

His face melting into an easy smile, Makoto adjusts his grip on Sousuke’s hand and holds it unabashedly, rubbing his thumb back and forth.

“You’re right,” he says confidently. He pulls up Sousuke’s hand to kiss the back of it. He can feel Sousuke’s quickened pulse against his lips. “Happy anniversary.”

Sousuke smiles and pulls Makoto’s hand back towards him, returning the kiss on his knuckles.

“Yeah. Happy anniversary.”

\---

Makoto swallows his insecurities during dinner, refusing to let them control him. It’s a relief to forget about everything for a while and just enjoy being alone with the person he loves. They talk exclusively about positive things, reminisce about good times in their relationship, and laugh about Sato’s request for pictures of their meals.

Their waitress agrees to take a picture of them and only hesitates slightly when they take each other’s hand. This time, Makoto doesn’t feel compelled to pull away. Let her see. Let the entire world see. Right now, no one else matters.

At the end of dinner, they trade bills and don’t let each other look at the prices. They stick their debit cards in the little books. Reaching across the table, their hands meet in the center, and Makoto just loses himself in Sousuke’s eyes.

It’s silly and ridiculously, _disgustingly_ romantic, but Makoto is caught up in the moment and just can’t bring himself to worry about anything else right now. Later, he knows he’ll die of embarrassment at the memory of this moment. He’ll probably worry about whether or not other people noticed. But that’s for later.

“I forgot to mention,” Sousuke begins, leaning his cheek on his palm. “I noticed you cut your hair. It looks good.”

“Thank you,” Makoto says, smiling and reaching up out of habit to brush his hair behind his ear. It falls back into place instantly. “Hana-chan did it for me.”

“Sato’s friend, right?” Sousuke asks. Makoto nods. “Tell her I like it.”

Sousuke reaches across the table and pinches a soft lock between his fingers. He gives a very gentle tug.

“Hm,” Sousuke hums, pulling his hand back. Makoto tilts his head curiously.

“What is it?”

“I was just… thinking that… you look…” he struggles. Makoto beams at Sousuke, unable to hold back his smile.

“I look…?” he asks slowly. Sousuke coughs into his fist.

“Is it okay to call you pretty?” he asks. Makoto’s smile widens. “I mean, it’s not weird to think that about a guy, right? Handsome just doesn’t… fit. Or something like that.”

“I think you’re pretty, too,” Makoto says. The bridge of Sousuke’s nose turns red, and he looks away. “I think you’re beautiful, Sousuke.”

“Shit,” Sousuke curses. He covers his mouth and nose with his hand. “Y-Yeah. Me too. I think you’re beautiful, too.”

Makoto giggles while Sousuke sits there, beside himself with embarrassment. He’s blunt and bold, but on the rare occasion it’s turned against him, he gets so bashful. It’s a little thing about Sousuke that Makoto treasures.

“Should we go?” Makoto asks, grabbing his card and his receipt. Sousuke nods, still red-faced, and clears his throat as he grabs his own card.

“Are you staying over tonight?” Sousuke asks quietly. Makoto smiles and nods.

“Of course.”

“…Awesome.”

They leave together, managing to let go of each other’s hands long enough to exit the restaurant and maneuver down the busy street to where Sousuke parked his car. The moment they’re back in the car, they take each other’s hands again like it’s second nature.

Sousuke’s quiet as he drives, clearly thinking about something. Makoto watches him, trying to decipher the look on his face. As the emotional high of the romantic dinner with Sousuke begins to ebb, he starts to notice the tiny creases in Sousuke’s brow. Is there something bothering him? Makoto wants to ask but doesn’t want to ruin the mood.

“Ah! Mint?” Makoto suddenly asks. He pulls his Tic-Tacs out of his pocket. Sousuke looks at him, his scrunched brow fading for just a moment as he smirks.

“What are you saying, Tachibana? Do I have bad breath or something?”

“N-No!” Makoto gasps, waving his hand wildly. “Not at all, I just thought--”

“Relax, I’m just teasing. Sure, I’ll take a couple,” Sousuke says. Makoto pinches his lips together and gently pulls his hand out of Sousuke’s hold. He shakes a few Tic-Tacs out into his hand and passes them over. Sousuke pops them in his mouth, reminding Makoto of something.

“Oh, did you take your medication?” Makoto asks. Sousuke grimaces. The crease returns to his brow.

“…Uh… no. Not yet,” he says. “I didn’t want to take it at dinner. Thought it’d wreck the mood or something.”

“It wouldn’t have wrecked the mood at all. You should take it when we get back,” Makoto says gently. Sousuke shifts in his seat.

“Oh. Yeah, sure.”

They don’t speak for the rest of car ride. Sousuke keeps both hands firmly on the wheel, his jaw set and his eyes trained on the road. Makoto glances worriedly at him every few moments, wondering what could possibly be going through his head. Feeling anxious, he wrings his hands until they get back to Sousuke’s apartment.

Sousuke gets out of the car first and comes around to open Makoto’s car door for him. Makoto smiles and blushes, flattered by the gesture. Even though Sousuke’s obviously bothered by something, he’s still concerned with being a gentleman.

“Did you have fun?” Sousuke asks. Makoto grins and nods, slipping his hand into Sousuke’s.

“I had a wonderful time,” he says. Sousuke gives him a small smile and leads him to his apartment, pulling him up the staircase and to his door.

“I’m glad,” he says. Makoto opens his mouth to speak, but the moment they’re inside, Sousuke slams the door shut and whirls around, pinning Makoto against the door. The back of his head hits the door hard, making him wince, but he quickly forgets the pain as Sousuke presses flush up against him. Leaning in close to his ear, he whispers hotly, “I’ve wanted to kiss you all night.”

 _Is this what was bothering him?_ Makoto lets out a shaky sigh and nods. He tries to move his hands to Sousuke’s shoulders, but Sousuke grabs his wrists and shoves them up against the door. Makoto is already starting to pant, testing Sousuke’s grip on his wrists. Sousuke doesn’t budge, and just the thought makes a moan bubble up from the pit of his belly.

However, as Sousuke leans in to kiss him, Makoto turns his head away.

“Wait,” he says. Sousuke lets up immediately, grip loosening on Makoto’s wrists enough for him to pull his hands away and set them on Sousuke’s shoulders. “You _have_ to take your medication.”

A brief flash of anger passes Sousuke’s face, followed by a petulant scowl that has Makoto smiling apologetically.

“I know. I’m sorry, but it’s important.”

“Fine.”

Sousuke pushes away, slouching as he puts his hands in his pockets and trudges to the kitchen. Makoto follows and watches as Sousuke grabs his prescription, pours a pill into his hand, and pops it into his mouth. He fills a cup with water and hesitates before bringing it to his lips and gulping the water down.

The crease in Sousuke’s brow has returned. He clutches the prescription bottle in his hands, an almost hateful look in his eye as he smacks it back on the counter.

“There. I took it. Happy?”

“I’m sorry,” Makoto murmurs. He looks down, frowning. “I’m really worried about you, you know? Your anxiety attacks scare me. It’s been so long since you’ve had one, but I still… remember you looking like you were in so much pain. And I couldn’t do anything.”

Makoto looks up at Sousuke again. Sousuke’s face softens, and he comes forward to cup Makoto’s face in his hands. Very lightly smacking his cheek, he smirks.

“That worried about me, huh?” he teases. Makoto lifts his hands to rest them over Sousuke’s.

“I’m serious,” he says. Sousuke’s smile fades, and he huffs a sigh through his nose.

“I know. I didn’t… want you worrying about me. Especially today.”

“I’m not worried now that you’ve taken your pill,” Makoto says, squeezing Sousuke’s hands. Sousuke presses their foreheads together. Makoto nibbles his lower lip, sliding his hands down to Sousuke’s wrists. “Um… you can kiss me now.”

He closes his eyes and waits expectantly. Laughing softly, Sousuke runs his thumbnail along the curve of Makoto’s lips, prompting him to part them. Sousuke slips past his lips and presses the pad of his thumb against the ridges of his bottom teeth, as if testing their strength. The whole action feels a little possessive, sending shivers up Makoto’s spine. Sousuke seems to realize this and withdraws his thumb. Makoto follows his retreat, eyes half-lidded and glazed over.

“You… you can do that again,” he breathes before he can catch himself. He hears Sousuke gulp. Makoto is just about to backpedal when Sousuke’s thumb returns to his lips, pushing into his mouth deeper. He pins Makoto’s tongue to the bottom of his mouth, drawing a moan from the back of his throat. The moment Makoto looks up and locks eyes with Sousuke, Sousuke rips his thumb out of his mouth and replaces it with his tongue. He kisses him fiercely, angrily, as if Makoto just did something unthinkable.

Makoto _loves_ it.

They’re moving, stumbling backwards out of the kitchen and down the hall. The back of Makoto’s thigh smacks against an end table, sending a small stack of newspapers and magazines clattering to the floor. Startled, Makoto lets out a squeal against Sousuke’s lips. Sousuke doesn’t stop and kisses Makoto all the way to the bedroom, where they tumble over together onto his bed. The only light in here is from Sousuke’s night light (the one Makoto insists be plugged in at all times), which allows Makoto to watch Sousuke’s face.

Makoto’s tie is suffocating him, but the lack of air makes it all the more thrilling. Body trembling with desire, he reaches down and fumbles for Sousuke’s belt buckle. Sousuke hisses against his lips and grabs Makoto’s wrists. He pins them to the mattress above Makoto’s head with one hand; the other working to loosen the tie.

At first, Makoto is disappointed for the tie to come off, but it’s short-lived. Sousuke feverishly undoes the first button of his shirt, then the second, licking and kissing and nipping his way down Makoto’s sternum.

“ _Yes_ ,” Makoto exhales, throwing his head back and rocking his hips. Sousuke releases his wrists to concentrate on holding the sensitive sides of his ribcage, making Makoto tense and break out in gooseflesh. The touch sends electricity straight to his cock, which quickly begins to stir and swell in his pants.

Sousuke’s hands slide up and in, fingertips brushing over his nipples through his shirt and making them stiffen. Makoto never considered himself to be a nipple play kinda guy, but when Sousuke touches him, it’s a whole other story. Gasping sharply, his back arches against Sousuke’s touch. He rubs his legs together as the pressure in his slacks increases and becomes painful. His dick gives a hard twitch, and Makoto nearly stops breathing.

“O-Oh god,” he pants harshly, grabbing at Sousuke’s shoulders and knotting his shirt in his hands. Heat pools rapidly in his stomach. “S-Sousuke, I--”

Sousuke’s fingers tangle in his hair and holds tight as he kisses his lips. Makoto’s eyes snap wide open as the heat coils tight and an aching sensation fills his lower body. He’s past the point of no return, and there’s nothing he can do as his fingernails scrabble for purchase on Sousuke’s back. He tries to push Sousuke away, but instead pulls him even closer as his hips buck uncontrollably.

“Mmmn _ahhh!_ ” Makoto howls, tearing away from Sousuke and thrashing his head back against the mattress as he orgasms. Eyes watering and rolling back, Makoto’s lips stretch wide open, and the blush on his cheeks and ears spreads down his neck. The inside of his briefs become sticky and wet with cum. It was way too good for him to care, however, and his body goes limp with relief on the mattress.

The aftershocks draw soft whimpers from him, his hips still giving the occasional twitch. Absolutely ruined, he’s just about to fall asleep when he remembers Sousuke and awakens immediately. When Makoto looks up, Sousuke is staring down at him with wide eyes. In the dim light, he almost looks scared.

Feeling anxious, Makoto stares back.

“U-Uh…” he begins. “Sorry, I was… um…”

“Did you cum?” Sousuke asks in disbelief. “You came from that?”

“I’m so sorry, I know it’s weird--”

Sousuke sits up, looking stricken. Makoto sits up as well, his limbs still feeling like jelly and his body shaking. He winces at the cold, wet feeling in his briefs. It occurs to him that he probably shouldn’t leave Sousuke hanging, so he wets his swollen lips and leans in.

“I’m sorry for being selfish. I’ll suck it,” he breathes in Sousuke’s ear, hand sliding down to the front of his slacks. “So you--”

There’s nothing. He isn’t hard at all. Makoto freezes. Sousuke abruptly shoves his hand away and gets to his feet.

“I… you can use the shower, if you want,” Sousuke blurts. He hurries out of the room, door slamming shut behind him.

Makoto is left sitting on the bed, confused and hurt.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friends [Diana](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com) and [Codango](https://codango.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **IMPORTANT**
> 
> This is a reminder NOT to post reactions to the FEFSKY chapters in the SouMako tag! I've gotten several complaints that FEFSKY is spamming the tag. Not to mention, many people have been spoiling FEFSKY in the SouMako tag, which makes me really sad! I don't want to spoil potential new readers. So with that said, please limit your reaction posts to JUST the FEFSKY tag: tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky. However, if you have FANART or other FANWORKS you would like to share, feel free to post it in the SouMako tag as well as the FEFSKY tag! People in the SouMako tag will appreciate the art and the lack of spam :)
> 
> Speaking of which, PLEASE TAG YOUR SPOILERS!!! A lot of people have been spoiled because people are not tagging them properly! Please tag your spoilers as #fefsky spoilers. If you would like to be spared the spoiling, please make sure you check the #FEFSKYupdates tag before going into the #FEFSKY tag. 
> 
> Thank you!

Despite the awkwardness, the two of them sleep together that night. After everything had calmed down and they’d both cleaned up and Makoto’s briefs were in the washing machine, Sousuke returned to the bedroom. Makoto had wanted to ask him what happened, but he restrained himself. They were both exhausted in more ways than one.

Sousuke sleeps facing away from Makoto but doesn’t protest when Makoto curls around him tightly from behind. He’s very obviously upset, quivering softly in Makoto’s arms. It fills Makoto with a weird mixture of anxiety and dread, but he doesn’t let go of his boyfriend once during the night.

\---

Makoto awakens to sunlight shining through the window and the sound of pots and pans rattling in the kitchen. Yawning, he rolls over. Sousuke’s side of the bed is empty, the sheets cold. Makoto reaches over to the bedside table and picks up his phone. It’s almost noon. He has a couple missed calls from Haru and Sato, a few texts, and an email from one of his professors.

Makoto sits up, rubs the sleep out of his eyes, and opens Haru’s texts first.

_[i wanted to tell you about the things we saw today]_

_[stupid makoto]_

The two texts from Haru came around the time he and Sousuke were having dinner last night. Of course Makoto knows Haru really doesn’t care about sharing what he’s been seeing in Germany; he was just checking up on Makoto. Smiling, Makoto taps out a response. It’s around four in the morning for Haru, so he keeps it short and sweet.

_[Sorry! I had a really fun time last night!]_

He checks his texts from Sato, which end up being around ten different sex tips. She also sent Makoto a bunch of smiley-face emoticons arranged into the shape of a penis. Makoto laughs and doesn’t bother responding, knowing Sato is probably still sleeping anyway.

Haru calls him before he can check his email. Surprised, Makoto brings the phone to his ear.

“Haru? What are you doing awake?” Makoto asks.

 _“Jet lag. Those idiots let me take a nap, and now I can’t sleep. Also, you didn’t answer my call,”_ Haru huffs. Makoto laughs and stretches out on his side, propping his head on his hand.

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologizes.

 _“So you had a good anniversary date?”_ Haru asks.

“Mhm,” Makoto hums.

_“And…? Did he give you what you wanted?”_

Makoto thinks for a moment. Well, he _did_ get to orgasm, which had been building up for a long time. Then again, afterwards…

The memory makes Makoto frown, but he doesn’t want Haru to worry.

“Well, he certainly gave me something,” Makoto says. Haru makes a disgusted noise.

 _“Gross,”_ he says, but Makoto can hear the relief in his voice. _“Then you’re probably staying with Yamazaki today, right?”_

“Yeah. We can Skype later, if you want,” Makoto offers. Haru makes a noncommittal grunt.

_“Only if I have time.”_

That, of course, is Haru-speak for ‘yes’, so Makoto just chuckles and nods.

“Yes, yes,” he says. “I’ll talk to you later, ‘kay?”

_“Mm.”_

As he hangs up, there’s a knock at the bedroom door. It opens slowly, and Sousuke appears. He’s a bit disheveled with dark circles under his eyes and messy bedhead. He looks like _he’s_ the one who just woke up, not Makoto.

“Hey, sleeping beauty,” he says. His voice is kind of hoarse. Makoto smiles as Sousuke comes to the bed and leans in to kiss his forehead. “I’m gonna make breakfast. Or… it’s probably lunch now, but whatever. It’s food. You hungry?”

“Yeah,” Makoto says. He gets out of bed, tugging at his tank top to air it out. The slightly awkward atmosphere has him grasping for conversation topics. “Ahh, it’s so hot. You know what I miss about Iwatobi? The ocean. I could go for a swim.”

“I thought you were afraid of the ocean,” Sousuke says. Makoto gives him a grouchy look.

“Ah, Rin is still telling you secrets?” he asks. Sousuke laughs lowly and reaches out to grab Makoto’s hand and kiss his palm.

“Sorry.”

When Makoto joins Sousuke in the kitchen after brushing his teeth, his boyfriend is busy poking at a pat of butter in the frying pan. He’s made quite the mess—he’s not the master chef Haru is, but Makoto still likes his cooking.

“Coffee,” Sousuke says, pointing his chopsticks at the coffee pot. “Over easy?”

“Thanks. And I’ll take my eggs over medium today,” Makoto says. Sousuke grunts.

“So… I wanted to talk about last night,” Sousuke says after a moment, not looking up from the stove. Makoto pours himself a cup of black coffee. Leaning against the counter, he blows into the mug and glances at Sousuke.

“Yeah?” Makoto prompts. Sousuke pinches his lips together.

“I’m sorry.”

Makoto patiently waits for him to continue, but he doesn’t. Frowning, Makoto looks down, but a piece of paper on the counter catches his eye. A few lines of official-looking text have been highlighted or circled with a pen. Curious, Makoto picks it up for a closer look. However, before he can read anything, Sousuke snatches the paper out of his hands. He crumples it up and shoves it in the pocket of his basketball shorts without looking at Makoto.

“What is that?” Makoto asks. Sousuke shakes his head.

“Nothing,” he says curtly. He puts Makoto’s eggs on a plate, then opens the oven to grab two pieces of buttered toast he’d been keeping warm. “Here you go.”

A bit hurt, Makoto takes the offered plate and chopsticks and goes to the dining room. He stares at his food, unmoving, until Sousuke joins him with his own plate.

“Oi. It’s going to get cold,” he says, sitting down beside Makoto. He puts salt and pepper on the table and watches Makoto expectantly. Makoto takes a breath. He can’t just let this slide anymore.

“What are you hiding from me?” he asks quietly. Sousuke tenses.

“I told you, it’s not your business,” he mutters. Makoto bristles, clenching his chopsticks in his fist.

“I think it _is_ my business,” he presses. His heart pounds in his throat. He’s pushing hard for answers, but Sousuke won’t budge. How much can he push before Sousuke gets angry? “It worries me that you’re being so secretive.”

“It’s an issue I’m dealing with on my own terms,” Sousuke says tiredly. “It has nothing to do with you. It’s my own problem.”

So it doesn’t have anything to do with Makoto’s looks, which fills him with a sick sense of relief. Sousuke kissed him so hungrily and so desperately last night. Makoto was sure he’d at _least_ agree to a blowjob. And Makoto would’ve been willing despite his lack of experience.

There’s obviously something deeply wrong, but Makoto doesn’t know what. He reaches across the table and gently takes Sousuke’s hand in his.

“If you won’t tell me, then…” Makoto trails off. Sousuke tenses. “…Then just tell me one thing. Are you in danger? And I mean this in the kindest way possible. I mean, like… are you in actual danger of being seriously hurt? Mentally or physically?”

“No,” Sousuke says quietly. He holds Makoto’s hand tightly, staring down at his plate. That’s all he says, which leaves Makoto with more questions than before. He doesn’t press, however, and instead slowly begins to eat his food. It’s lukewarm, but he doesn’t mind.

“My eggs are perfect,” Makoto says to change the subject. Sousuke’s shoulders relax, and he flashes Makoto a strained smile.

“That’s good. Why the change in style today? You usually have them over easy.”

“Just thought I’d give it a try. They’re good this way,” Makoto says. Sousuke looks relieved, and he picks up a piece of toast. Makoto watches the minute changes in his facial expression. If years of being friends with Haru have taught him anything, it’s that even a tiny crease can represent a thousand words.

He looks so tired. Makoto wonders if he slept much last night. A vein in Sousuke’s neck is bulging, indicating his heightened stress. Whenever he swallows, he makes a face like his throat is sore.

“Why are you staring at me?” Sousuke shoots Makoto a glare. Makoto lifts his hands in surrender, smiling nervously.

“Huh? Well… I was just looking,” he says. Sousuke grunts. Makoto swallows and proceeds very carefully. “Did you have a fight with your dad this morning?”

Sousuke freezes, an alarmed look on his face.

“…How’d you know?”

“You sound like you’ve been yelling,” Makoto murmurs. He reaches out, brushing his knuckles against the creases around Sousuke’s eyes. “And you look really stressed.”

Sousuke heaves a dramatic sigh. He leans away from Makoto’s touch and rubs his face.

“Man, you’re so nosy,” he grumbles irritably.

“Of course I am. You’re being so vague. It’s not like you,” Makoto says. Sousuke pauses, then chuckles.

“Ha. Rin said something like that, once,” he mutters. Makoto tilts his head curiously, but Sousuke moves on. “Yeah. Me and Dad had a big fight over the phone this morning. He’s coming over to discuss it with me after work, but I’m driving you back before then.”

Sousuke looks at Makoto, brows knitted together.

“I don’t want you getting caught in the crossfire.”

“Was it a fight about me?” Makoto asks nervously. Sousuke blinks and laughs grimly.

“No. It was about the… the problem,” Sousuke says hesitantly. So Iwao knows about Sousuke’s problem? More questions arise. What’s the biggest thing the two of them disagree on?

Sousuke’s living situation? His health?

“Stop worrying about it,” Sousuke says. He reaches out and presses his thumb against the bridge of Makoto’s nose, relaxing the creases.

“Impossible,” Makoto says. He catches Sousuke’s hand and nuzzles against it. “It’s been a year, and I still worry about you so much.”

Sousuke goes quiet, letting Makoto rain kisses on the back of his hand.

“You know I love you, right?”

Makoto looks up, blinking. The distress on Sousuke’s face is raw and vulnerable, and Makoto squeezes his hand tighter.

“Of course I do,” Makoto says, shocked. “…You’re scaring me.”

Sousuke grits his teeth.

“Just trust me. Please. I’ll take care of it. Just wait.”

Wait? Makoto frowns, deeply troubled. Is the problem really just about waiting for sex at this point? At this moment, sex is the furthest thing from Makoto’s mind. Whatever battle Sousuke is fighting right now, he’s fighting it alone. It hurts, not only because Sousuke is so anxious about whatever situation he’s in, but because he can’t trust Makoto enough to let him in.

He might not be able to help specifically with the problem, but the least he can do is provide support. It’s what a romantic partner _does_.

Makoto says nothing. It’s obvious that he’s skirting a fine line. Despite the thoughts swirling through his head, he can’t bring himself to press the subject any further than he already has.

“Okay,” he finally says. “It’s okay.”

He gets to his feet and pulls Sousuke to him. Silently holding his boyfriend, he sways back and forth. Sousuke embraces him back, burying his nose in his hair. Makoto holds him close with as much warmth as he can manage. But he doesn’t nuzzle Sousuke. He stares straight ahead, his face dark.

The very first inkling of anger is forming in his heart.

\---

“Alright, I’ll call you later or something,” Sousuke says as he puts his car in park right outside Makoto’s dorm.

“Okay,” Makoto mumbles. He’s dressed in Sousuke’s clothes: a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. His dress clothes from the night before are wrapped in a plastic bag. Just before Makoto gets out of the car, Sousuke puts his hand on his knee and leans in for a kiss.

Makoto veers his head to the right, and Sousuke ends up kissing him on the cheek.

“Wh--?” Sousuke asks. Makoto gently pushes him away and smiles at him.

“That’s okay for now,” he says. Sousuke frowns.

“…Ah. Alright,” he says. “Talk to you later?”

“Mhm,” Makoto hums. He gets out of the car and hears the faint sound of Sousuke swearing as he shuts the car door. Standing on the sidewalk, Makoto waves until Sousuke’s out of sight. His face goes dark as he spins on his heel and marches to his dorm.

His mind buzzes. Sure, his deduction skills have never been that great, but he has enough pieces of the puzzle to take a shot at figuring out the problem on his own. It’s obvious it has nothing to do with him. His own selfish fears about his physical appearance are far out of his mind now, replaced by concern for his boyfriend.

It’s a medical problem. It has to be.

Makoto fumbles with his keys as he hurriedly unlocks his door and steps inside — and his jaw drops. A massive banner stretches across his room. It reads _CONGRATULATIONS!_ in rainbow characters. On his desk sits a cake with the words _Mako-kun got laid!!_ in red frosting. Makoto stares at it for a moment.

He’s going to kill Sato.

Pushing the cake aside (of course he won’t waste it, it _is_ cake after all), Makoto sits at his desk and opens his laptop. He pulls up a search window and, taking a deep breath, types:

_young male impotence_

The very first page of results indicates that apparently this is a common problem. Makoto scrolls down, glancing at several Wikipedia pages and Yahoo! Answers. The words _erectile dysfunction_ turn up over and over again. Tapping his lips, Makoto brings up a health article.

“A man with erectile dysfunction could have trouble maintaining an erection for sex, or may not be able to get one at all,” Makoto reads out loud. Brows furrowed, he scrolls down to look at the physical causes.

Obesity is one of them, but that’s obviously not the cause. Low testosterone? Maybe. Tobacco use? Not at all. Alcoholism? Nope. Prescription medications…

 _Wait_. Prescription —?

Makoto clicks the link for more information. The very first drug type listed is antidepressants.

He leans back in his chair, hand over his mouth. Of course. How obvious—the medication Sousuke has been taking is still relatively new. He’s been taking it for a whole year, but he still complains about it. It’s strong enough to hurt him if he doesn’t eat food with it, and he’s been so reluctant to take them lately.

How could Makoto _not_ see it?

He leans on the desk and  puts his head in his hands. He was so insistent on Sousuke taking those drugs, not knowing the possible side effects they were having on his body. All this time, he’s been selfishly worrying about himself and not about the actual victim here.

Returning to the article, Makoto reads quickly.

_Although not as prevalent in young men as with older men, erectile dysfunction affects a great number of individuals in Japan and worldwide. It is often considered a vicious cycle, due to the stress it may cause in both committed and casual relationships. The stress and anxiety of not being able to adequately please a partner sexually may worsen the effects of ED. Many men, especially younger men, may feel great levels of distress and embarrassment due to ED. As such, many cases of ED go unreported._

Makoto scrolls down further, looking for possible cures, but pauses at the header that reads ‘psychological causes’. Stress and anxiety are listed at the top, and a little ways down he reads that relationship problems and poor communication are both causes as well. Guilt floods into him, but anger quickly forms with it.

Why can’t Sousuke just tell him these things?

Makoto looks down at his hands. They tremble slightly as they hover over his keyboard. Erectile dysfunction might not be the problem at all, but everything that has happened suggests it. Makoto can understand why Sousuke would be embarrassed. After all, when people think of erectile dysfunction, they think of the elderly, not physically fit, able-bodied nineteen-year-olds.

He feels somewhat betrayed. It’s not so much the sex as much as it’s Sousuke’s unwillingness to let him in. Sousuke doesn’t trust him enough to tell him about this issue, and that’s what hurts him the most. Yes, it’s embarrassing, and Sousuke probably doesn’t want Makoto to know something like this, but… they’ve been together for a year. Is there room left for embarrassment and secrets? If Sousuke can’t tell him upfront, is there something Makoto can do to help behind the scenes? Is it normal to worry about this? Is it _healthy?_

He sits there for a long time, thinking hard. He needs to talk to someone about this. Get some advice. There has to be someone on hand he can talk to, someone with experience, someone who knows what they’re talking about.

Someone like a professor.

Determined, Makoto takes out his phone and pulls up his university’s website. He finds information on his anatomy teacher from last year and dials her office number. It’s Saturday, so it’s entirely possible that she isn’t in her office at all, but--

_“Hello?”_

“Ah! Miyata-sensei, hello. It’s Tachibana Makoto. I was a student in your one o’clock lecture last year. First semester?”

_“Mmm, yes. I believe I remember. What can I help you with?”_

“Well, I was wondering when your office hours end?”

_“Unfortunately, I am actually just here to pick up some documents that I forgot to take home on Friday.”_

“Sensei, would you please let me talk to you in person? Just for a few minutes? Please, it’s important,” Makoto pleads. “I understand if you can’t, but if you have _any_ time to spare--”

_“Certainly. I have some things I can do to occupy my time until you arrive. You know where my office is, correct?”_

“Fourth floor of the science building?”

_“Room 455, to the left of the elevators.”_

“Thank you!”

Makoto shoves his phone in his pocket, his laptop in his backpack, and rushes out. He doesn’t want to impose on his former professor any more than necessary, so he breaks into a run. By the time he gets to the science building, there’s a stitch in his side and he’s breathing hard, but he runs up the stairs two at a time.

Knocking on Miyata’s office door, he pants and rests his hands on his knees to catch his breath. The door opens, and Miyata stands there, blinking down at him in surprise.

“Oh! I didn’t know you’d be coming so quickly. Come on in. You didn’t have to run.”

“Thank you, sorry… to intrude,” Makoto wheezes. Miyata takes a seat at her desk and gestures for Makoto to sit down. Makoto flops into a seat and wipes his brow. “I’m sorry about this… such short notice… I just have a… bit of a problem.”

“Calm down and catch your breath first,” Miyata laughs softly. She turns in her chair and reaches into a mini-fridge under her desk. “Water?”

“Yes, please. Thank you.”

Once he’s settled down, he leans forward and pulls his laptop out of his backpack.

“Ready?” Miyata asks.

“Yes. Okay, so I wanted to ask about um… erectile dysfunction,” Makoto says, a tad shyly. “I know we only went over genitals briefly in anatomy, but you teach other classes, right?”

“I don’t teach any courses that go over erectile dysfunction specifically, but we do go over genitals extensively in my class on sexually transmitted infections. Tachibana-kun, if you have concerns about this, you may wish to consult your doctor and not an anatomy professor,” Miyata says, looking over her glasses at Makoto sternly. Makoto shakes his head.

“No, no, this isn’t for me. You see… um, well… my…” Makoto stammers. He takes a deep breath. What would Miyata think if she finds out he’s gay? Would she kick him out of her office? Refuse to help him? What if she reports him or something, and it goes on his permanent record, and he’ll never be able to get a job as a coach for kids—

That’s ridiculous. Makoto fidgets and clears his throat. Determined, he looks Miyata straight in the eye.

“I think my boyfriend has erectile dysfunction,” he says. Miyata’s eyebrows rise. For a split second, Makoto is absolutely sure she’s going to kick him out of her office, but he keeps looking at her evenly. “E-Even if you kick me out of your office, I’ll find someone else to give me answers.”

“Ah, I see,” Miyata finally says, smiling. “Relax, Tachibana-kun, I am contractually obligated to follow a non-discriminatory policy. Not to mention, I am well-acquainted with the coordinator of LGBTQ services on campus.”

“Nori-chan?” Makoto gasps. Miyata chuckles.

“Is that what he goes by, now? Yes, I’m talking about Honda Minori,” Miyata says. “You may be interested in my course on STIs, Tachibana-kun. Honda often comes in as a guest speaker to talk about common STIs among the LGBTQ community. But enough about that. You’re worried your boyfriend may have erectile dysfunction? Has he talked to his doctor about this?”

“No. I don’t know if he actually knows, but I have a feeling he does,” Makoto says. “And I think it’s because of his medication. Is it true that antidepressants can affect… that? He… um, he’s taking it just for anxiety, though.”

“Certainly. It’s quite common, actually. If he’s chronically anxious, that could play a big part in his problem, too,” Miyata says. Makoto nods, leaning back in his chair and thinking hard. Miyata continues, “If his libido is severely hindered, it is advisable that he see his doctor as soon as possible.”

“Sousuke wouldn’t want to admit something like that,” Makoto muses. He slaps his hand over his mouth as he says it and looks nervously at Miyata. She only smiles at him.

“Ah, Sousuke? As in Yamazaki Sousuke? I did notice you sat close to him often. I thought the little notes you wrote on the tops of his quizzes after you graded them were very sweet. He had such a rough start to the semester, but he certainly improved by the end. Could it be that you had a hand in that, Tachibana-kun?”

Makoto blushes and looks down, wringing his hands. Miyata laughs softly.

“Well, you must care about Yamazaki-kun very much to come to me about this problem. From what I understand, you have come to this conclusion on your own?”

“Yes. But… I don’t think he trusts me well enough to tell me.”

“Perhaps, but please understand that erectile dysfunction can be quite a blow to a man’s ego, especially if said man is young and physically fit. It is entirely possible that he is too embarrassed to tell you,” Miyata explains. Makoto heaves a sigh.

“But we’ve been together for year, he should _know_ that I would never judge him for that, and I would _really_ like to help in any way I can,” Makoto laments. He stops himself from saying anymore and looks down at his clenched fists in his lap. “Sorry for talking so much, Miyata-sensei.”

“I may not teach communication, but I know enough about it from my own marriage to tell you that, in this situation, you can’t assume you know everything about your significant other. I’ve been married for thirty-three years, and I’m still caught off guard by some of the things my husband says and does!” Miyata laughs. “No relationship is _perfect_ , but good communication is key to a _successful_ one. In this case, Yamazaki-kun may feel like his privacy has been breached should you directly bring this up to him. Instead, give him time to come to terms with the situation himself and come to you. You obviously love him very much. Just continue to support him. I’m sure he’s going through a very stressful time right now.”

“Okay,” Makoto says. He nibbles his lip. “ _Okay_ , but what if it gets really bad?”

“Well, if the situation truly becomes dire and something drastic happens, it may be necessary at that point for an intervention of some kind. It may not seem like a big deal, but severe erectile dysfunction can sometimes be a precursor for more serious diseases. I doubt that it’s anything serious, but he should consult a doctor anyway. If his antidepressants are too strong, it could cause more harm than good.”

“Okay. Thank you so much, Miyata-sensei,” Makoto says. Miyata shakes her head.

“No, no, don’t thank me. I’m glad you care so much about your boyfriend that you would do this.”

“I care about him a lot,” Makoto says. “I feel sorta bad for being so nosy, but I think it’s starting to really get to him.”

“It’s understandable to be concerned when a partner starts acting differently,” Miyata agrees. “Here, I have something for you.”

Makoto blinks as Miyata opens a desk drawer. She pulls out a pamphlet and a card, handing them to Makoto.

“Here’s some information about mental health services here on campus. I’m not a professional on anxiety or depression, but there are licensed health professionals that you’re welcome to use as a free resource. Yamazaki-kun may benefit from it, if you feel comfortable sharing this with him. Even you may benefit from a counseling session for daily stress,” Miyata says.

Makoto takes the pamphlet and looks it over. He doesn’t know if it’ll come down to this, but it comforts him that the campus offers it.

After thanking Miyata profusely for her help, Makoto heads back to his dorm. He flips the pamphlet over and over in his hands, chewing the inside of his cheek. Sousuke definitely wouldn’t like something like this, but what else can Makoto do? He tucks the pamphlet into his backpack to keep there until he needs to use it.

He hopes he doesn’t have to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friends [Diana](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com) and [Codango](https://codango.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tag your spoilers!

The week passes uneventfully. Finals are approaching fast, and Makoto makes plans to go home for summer break to work at Iwatobi Market again. In the meantime, he remains reluctantly patient. He forces himself to watch Sousuke struggle alone and offers him the support he can, but it’s obvious that it’s providing little help.

Sousuke is in bad shape.

On Saturday the 26th, two days before the first day of final exams, Makoto and Sousuke study together in Sousuke’s bedroom. It’s absolutely silent; not even Sousuke’s classical music is playing. Makoto sits cross-legged on the floor, his thighs cramping as he leans over the notes spread out around him.

Across from him sits Sousuke, who hasn’t budged in easily over twenty minutes. Makoto watches him, brows knitted, as he just sits there staring at his notes. His hair is a mess; it’s oily and Makoto assumes it’s because he hasn’t showered since Thursday morning.

“Sousuke?” Makoto asks. Sousuke jumps violently, bangs his knees on the underside of the table, and looks around like a wild animal. His eyes land on Makoto and his shoulders slump.

“Oh. Yeah? What’s up,” he says. His voice is hoarse. Frowning, Makoto shifts and moves to stand. Sousuke’s dull eyes follow his movements as if his body has a tracer, a dazed expression on his face.

“I think we should take a break,” Makoto says slowly. Sousuke nods clumsily, his face blank. He scoots away from his notes and immediately crawls up onto his bed. He flops his face onto his pillow and doesn’t move.

“My head is pounding,” he says, voice muffled. Makoto laughs, cooing sympathetically as he goes to the bed and sits down on the edge. He begins to stroke Sousuke’s back, gently tracing his fingers down his spine. Sousuke groans into his pillow.

“It’ll be over soon,” Makoto murmurs. He slides his hand back and forth on Sousuke’s shoulders, pausing on one to massage and squeeze it before moving on to the next. As he does, his own head gives a painful throb. Sousuke’s not the only one with a headache. This semester’s exams are going to be difficult, considering in his English literature class alone he has to write three essays in two hours. Makoto can’t think about it too deeply or he’ll start stress-weeping.

“I need more coffee,” Sousuke grunts. He rolls his head to the side so only half his face is buried in his pillow.

“You already had four cups,” Makoto reminds him. “And it’s nine at night. You’ll never be able to get to sleep.”

Sousuke groans, lifting one hand to flash Makoto the middle finger. Laughing, Makoto takes his hand and kisses his knuckles until that middle finger disappears. Sousuke rolls onto his back, peering blearily up at Makoto. Makoto is about to give him a smile when Sousuke averts his eyes, his brow scrunched.

“Is something wrong?” Makoto asks. Sousuke pauses and shakes his head.

“…No. Just… a lot on my mind,” Sousuke says. He stares blankly at the ceiling, looking even more exhausted than before. Makoto rubs his hands together, nervous. Perhaps now would be a good time to talk to him about the mental health thing?

“Well, hold on. I have something that Miyata-sensei gave me,” he says, patting Sousuke’s arm before standing and going to his backpack. He opens it and takes out the mental health pamphlet Miyata had given him, then returns to the bed and shows it to Sousuke. “Our university offers free counseling sessions for any student. Maybe it would be worthwhile to go to one?”

His voice falters at the end as Sousuke’s tired expression turns into a scowl.

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” he asks. Makoto withdraws the pamphlet and shrugs helplessly.

“I… was thinking that maybe you’d want to get some things off your chest. And it wouldn’t be just you, I’d be there, too,” Makoto says quickly. Sousuke’s frown deepens and he sits up.

“I don’t need to ‘get anything off my chest’. I’m taking care of things on my own,” Sousuke grumbles. “I don’t need _therapy_ , and I definitely don’t need any more adults getting into my business.”

Hands shoved in his pockets, Sousuke gets up from the bed and trudges out of the bedroom. Makoto sits there by himself for a while, feeling his cheeks heat up. He stares down at the pamphlet and thinks. Miyata told him not to dig and to let Sousuke come to him on his own terms, but at this rate, he’s going to be too stressed about his exams to perform correctly.

With renewed determination, Makoto stands and walks out of the bedroom to find Sousuke. He finds him rummaging around in the kitchen. Leaning against the doorway, Makoto crosses his arms and watches Sousuke dig through the refrigerator.

“I didn’t mean anything bad when I offered. Miyata-sensei said that any student could benefit. It was just a suggestion,” Makoto says. There’s a very small amount of edge to his voice, almost undetectable. He can feel his body temperature rising as the anger in his gut begins to grow. “Please don’t be upset with me.”

“I don’t need _therapy_ ,” Sousuke repeats. He pulls milk out of the fridge and closes the door with a little more force than necessary. Makoto’s crossed arms tighten.

“It’s not therapy! It’s just--”

“Counseling, right,” Sousuke bites. “Just counseling. Cool, sign me up for counseling, because that’s going to solve _all_ the shit going on right now.”

“I’m not _saying_ it could solve it, just _help_ ,” Makoto insists, his voice rising slightly. _Calm down. Don’t get angry._ “I’m sorry I brought it up, okay? I’m sorry.”

“You’re not the first one who has suggested counseling. You think my dad doesn’t breathe down my neck all the time about that shit?” Sousuke asks harshly. “Just leave me alone. It’s stressful enough that my dad wants me to leave Japan.”

Sousuke freezes as soon as he says it. There’s a long, dreadful silence.

“What do you _mean_ he wants you to leave Japan?!” Makoto exclaims, panic bubbling up rapidly in his throat. Sousuke takes two long strides forward and clasps Makoto’s face in his hands.

“Listen! Listen, don’t freak out,” Sousuke hushes. Makoto can’t help it, he bursts into tears. When the first tear falls, heartbreak passes across Sousuke’s face. “Makoto, listen to me. It slipped out. I didn’t--”

“What’s _happening_ with you?” Makoto cries. “Why--”

“I said listen!” Sousuke snaps. He takes a deep breath. “Okay. My dad overreacts when it comes to my health. You know that. Remember when you had to go home last week because my dad was coming over to have a discussion with me? We were fighting about my medication. Okay? We were fighting about me changing it. My dad took my words and twisted them, and he freaked out, and he threatened to make me drop out and go live with my mom in Hong Kong. That’s it. I’m not leaving. I’m sorry. I swear to god I’m telling the truth. I’m really sorry.”

Sousuke’s hands shake on Makoto’s cheeks as his thumb swipes away tears that fall.

“Please don’t cry. Please,” Sousuke begs. Makoto sniffles and shakes his head, reaching up to hold Sousuke’s wrists.

“S-Sorry. I’m so tired because of these stupid exams,” Makoto rationalizes, laughing tearfully. Sousuke doesn’t even crack a smile, still looking stricken. “I’m already really stressed out, and that scared me. I thought--”

“No,” Sousuke interrupts. “I’d _never_ agree to that. Never. I just… I told my dad the medication was too strong and that it was making me miserable. And my dad assumed it was depression stuff, and jumped to _idiotic_ conclusions, and assumed I needed to get away from this ‘toxic environment’ or something stupid like that. Because that’s what he fucking does.”

“Did he at least agree to let you change it?” Makoto asks. Sousuke nods once and gulps audibly.

“Yeah. He did. I’m going back to my old stuff. I have a doctor’s appointment set up and I’m going to get a new prescription and everything,” Sousuke assures him. “Jesus fucking Christ. I’m so stupid.”

Sousuke releases Makoto and steps back, fists clenched. He grits his teeth and glowers at the floor.

“I just can’t keep my fucking mouth shut.”

“It’s okay,” Makoto says quietly. “I’d rather know than not know.”

“ _No_ , it’s _not_ okay. I made you cry. _Again_ ,” Sousuke bites, looking up sharply and gesturing helplessly at Makoto. Makoto lifts his hands and waves his arms.

“Wait, wait, wait. Hold on, I’m just stressed. We’re both really riled up right now because of finals,” Makoto says. “Just… it’s my fault. I’m sorry.”

“ _Your_ fault?” Sousuke hisses. Makoto swallows.

“…Yeah. For bringing this up in the first place.”

“Holy _shit_ ,” Sousuke whispers. He leans against the counter like he can’t support his own weight, head in his hand. Makoto fidgets.

“W-What’s wrong?” he stammers. Sousuke shakes his head, not looking at Makoto.

“I don’t want to argue anymore,” he mutters. “And I think I want to be alone for a while.”

Makoto pinches his lips together. The anger in his gut begins to stir again.

“You’re saying you want me to leave?” he asks. Sousuke pinches the bridge of his nose, still not looking up. He nods curtly.

“I think it’d be for the best right now. You said it yourself, the exams have us both riled up and this whole situation is just icing on the cake. So let’s just… call it a night, alright?” Sousuke asks. He finally looks up, eyes dark with exhaustion. “I think we both could use some sleep, and some time to ourselves.”

_I’m not leaving until I get answers._

_I’m not leaving until there’s some sort of resolution._

_I’m not leaving until you let me in._

“…Okay,” Makoto finally says. “I get it. I’ll go.”

He turns and leaves the kitchen, beating himself up the whole way to Sousuke’s bedroom. He’s such a stupid, cowardly idiot.

Makoto packs his things into his backpack and slings it over his shoulder. Dragging his feet, he makes his way to the front door and slowly puts on his shoes. He hopes Sousuke will try to stop him, maybe come to his senses and tell Makoto everything. It doesn’t happen. Makoto returns to the kitchen door and peeks around the corner. Sousuke is standing in the same place, arms crossed as he glares straight ahead.

“I’m leaving,” Makoto mumbles. Sousuke turns to him, his face strained.

“Ah. Okay.”

Makoto pauses awkwardly, drumming his fingers on the entryway.

“Um. I love you,” he says. He catches Sousuke’s eyes and nervously repeats himself, “I love you so much.”

Sousuke huffs a sigh through his nose and comes forward. He outstretches his hand like he’s going to hook his fingers on Makoto’s neck like he usually does, but his hand falters. Instead, he leans in to kiss Makoto’s cheek.

“Yeah. Me too,” he says quietly. Makoto squirms in discomfort—that didn’t sound very enthusiastic at all. “Do you need a ride?”

“No. I’m just going to take the train,” he says. “Get a good night’s sleep, okay?”

“Yeah.”

Sousuke shoves his hands in his pockets as Makoto turns from him and walks out of his apartment.

\---

Makoto feels angry and uneasy all night, hardly able to focus on studying. After a while, he gets so frustrated that he has to pace his room just to calm down. He doesn’t know if he’s angry at Sousuke or himself. Probably both. Definitely both.

Grabbing his textbooks from his bed, he shoves them unceremoniously in his backpack, unable to even look at them right now. As he looks down into his backpack, he spots something and reaches in.

It’s the stupid lubrication Sato bought him. Makoto holds it in front of him and is suddenly filled with rage. He clenches the bottle in his hand before hurling it at the ground as hard as he can. The plastic cap breaks and the tube bounces beneath his bed.

How could he honestly be so stupid as to care only about the sex? How could he be so focused on his own damn self to realize Sousuke’s suffering?

A small part of his mind tells him that it’s nothing he could help, but Makoto ignores it and instead throws himself down onto his bed. He’s so mad at himself. This whole situation is so much bigger than he realized. He should’ve stopped caring so much about whether or not he was getting to cum or not.

Makoto rolls onto his side and curls up under his covers.

 _But he didn’t let you in_ , chimes his mind. Makoto shoves his face into his pillow and groans. He’d really like to just hate himself about this situation, but resentment towards Sousuke is beginning to pool and fester. All of this grief over whether or not he can get a _boner?_ Does he truly distrust Makoto so much that he wouldn’t come clean about something so… so _arbitrary?_

_That’s not fair to say._

As if Makoto could ever understand anxiety. He’d read that anxiety makes people think too much and blow things out of proportion in their heads. Makoto wonders, briefly, if Iwao also has some form of anxiety that is causing him to react so irrationally to Sousuke’s word choices. Then again, Sousuke tends to drop bombshells out of nowhere and pick up the pieces _after_ the detonation. Perhaps Iwao’s reaction wasn’t so rash, after all.

Makoto kicks off his sheets and flops over onto his back, hands over his eyes. He wants to rip out his hair. The last time he felt this angry and sad was in the days leading up to his blowup with Haru over two years ago. The thought disgusts him so much that bile rises in his throat, so he dismisses it. He wants to avoid a big fight at all costs. He has to stay calm and composed, like Miyata said. Let Sousuke come to him himself.

He _did_ say he was going back to his old medication, so hopefully things will return to normal. That thought alone calms Makoto considerably. That’s right, Sousuke is going to take a different medication and hopefully then things will calm down. Things will go back to normal, and they won’t have to fight. They can continue on their merry way.

Makoto takes a deep, shivering breath. It’ll be just fine. If he can endure it for just a _little_ longer, it’ll go away. He ignores the nagging voice in the back of his head that reminds him that this is the exact same thought process he had before his blowup with Haru. He shoves that thought deep, deep, _deep_ down inside of him and absolutely refuses to let it come back up. Negativity isn’t going to get him anywhere in this situation.

By midnight, Makoto has practically thought himself to death, so he strips down to his briefs and nestles into bed. Sleep doesn’t come easy, and the longer he can’t sleep, the more irritated he gets. After tossing and turning for who knows how long, he finally falls asleep, when he physically cannot keep his eyes open any longer.

Sousuke and Haru occupy his dreams. As usual, most of his dreams consist of shapeless blobs of color and static voices and blurry faces. However, tonight he wanders into nightmare territory. Sousuke is yelling at him and Makoto can’t understand the language he’s speaking. Haru is trying to hit him, and Makoto swears he can feel the impact of his hands, but there is no pain. When he tries to run from it, his legs sink into the ground and the mud catches his shoes.

He dreams about Haru crying on the floor with heaving, ugly sobs, but Makoto can’t reach him. It’s a terrible, pitiful sight, but when Makoto tries to turn away, he sees Sousuke buried under a pile of debris. When he tries to dig him out, chunks of cement crumble into sand and start to suffocate Sousuke. The more Makoto digs, the more Sousuke is buried. The more Sousuke is buried, the less he can hear him. And then he’s gone completely.

He’s sitting in a classroom. Everyone around him is working hard on their essays, but when he tries to pick up his pencil, it’s too heavy for him to move. He tries to get better leverage on the pencil, but his arms turn to jelly and start bending in impossible directions. He’s forced to bite his finger until it bleeds, and the blood spills over his exam paper faster and faster until it’s out of control. He’s bleeding water. It gushes out of him in an unstoppable torrent, washing over everyone in the room. The water rises, closing around Makoto’s mouth and nose, filling his lungs, suffocating him until—

He forces himself awake, eyes snapping open. Tears that had been gathering behind his eyelids slip down his cheeks.

“God,” Makoto whispers to himself. He rolls onto his side. Sunlight shines through the crack in his curtains. Makoto forces himself to wake up, not wanting to slip back into his nightmares by falling asleep again so soon. Sitting up, Makoto stretches and yawns before going on a hunt for his phone. It takes him ten minutes of searching before he remembers that he left it in his backpack the night before. By the time he fishes it out, it’s too late. It’s already dead. Groaning, Makoto plugs it into his charger and waits for it to reboot.

He feels an uncomfortable pang in his tummy. It’s a strange sensation and, for reasons unbeknownst to him, he knows something is wrong. Something is horribly, _horribly_ wrong.

The second his phone reboots, it starts vibrating. Again. Again. Again. It continues to vibrate for a solid thirty seconds before it finally stops. They’re _all_ texts from Sousuke. Makoto stares blankly at his phone screen until the auto-lock kicks in and shuts it off again. His horrified face is reflected in the black screen.

Thumb trembling, he unlocks his phone and scrolls up to the top of the massive wall of text Sousuke sent him at five in the morning.

_[Before I start, I want you to understand that this is the best way I can think of going about doing this. I really can’t put things into the words out loud. I’ll just fuck it up if I try.]_

_[And I want you to know that this is literally the last thing I ever wanted to do, but I don’t know what else I CAN do.]_

_[The fact of the matter is, I’m hurting you. It’s exactly like what Rin said. I’m too rough to have someone as gentle as you. Nanase is right to hate me because I have done absolutely nothing but hurt you for the past year.]_

_[I know what you want. I know that you want to have sex, and I know that you want me to share things with you and open up my life to you and all that. I’m so fucking aware of it, these past few weeks have been absolute hell.]_

_[I couldn’t say anything. I wanted to speak out and tell you what I was feeling, but all I felt was more and more doubt. And the more I held it in, the more I hurt you. I knew I was. But I just couldn’t bring myself to say anything, because I’m a fucking selfish piece of shit. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.]_

_[The more I thought about it, the more anxious I was. I kept pushing you away. I made you cry before we started dating, and I made you cry again last night. Nothing has changed in this whole fucking year. I still hurt you enough to make you cry. And who knows how many times you’ve cried without me around?]_

_[I have been having doubts ever since we got together. there was always something wrong. always something making me even more anxious. ive been ripping myself to picees]_

_[pieces*]_

_[i cant do anything rgiht. i really cant do htis anymore]_

_[right*]_

_[this*]_

Makoto slaps his hand over his mouth. He doesn’t want to read anymore, but he already knows what’s coming.

_[i dont think we should see each other anymore]_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friend [Diana.](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com)
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> annnnd boom goes the dynamite
> 
> (Please tag your spoilers!!)

In the future, Makoto will look back on this day and wonder how it took this long to snap. He’ll wonder how he could’ve let himself endure it until it got to this point. Years from now, he’ll be in the middle of doing something and he’ll remember the raw emotion he felt at this moment and cringe.

But that’s for later.

Makoto storms through the metro station, fists clenched at his sides. Anyone who sees his face jump out of his way, and anyone who _dares_ get in his way nearly fall over when he shoves past them. On the train, he grips the handlebar with white knuckles. People naturally avoid standing too close to him as fury radiates off of him in waves. Makoto has never been one to outwardly show his anger, but right now his face reflects the rage bubbling inside of him, and it is quite possibly the most terrifying Makoto has ever managed to look.

The moment he gets to the station a mile down the street from Sousuke’s apartment, he bulldozes his way out of the crowd and marches down the sidewalk. It’s hot out, which only adds to the boiling heat in his gut.

When he gets to Sousuke’s apartment, he pounds hard on the door three times. When there’s no answer, he pounds harder, slamming his fist on it until the side of his hand is sore. He hears movement from inside, quickly approaching footsteps, and the jiggling of the doorknob before the door swings open.

“Dad, I _told_ you to call me before you--”

Sousuke freezes when his eyes meet Makoto’s, stopping mid-step out the door with his gym bag in one hand and his backpack slung over his shoulder.

“Whoa, Makoto--”

“ _Sousuke_ ,” Makoto snarls, shoving the door open fully and crowding into Sousuke’s apartment. Sousuke drops his duffel bag and backpack, leaving them at the door as he backs up. Makoto slams the door shut behind him, advancing on Sousuke and reaching into his pocket. He backs Sousuke into a wall and pulls his phone from his pocket. He hisses, “ _What_ is this?”

He shoves his phone in Sousuke’s face, making him jerk back so hard that he hits the back of his head against the wall. Sousuke lifts his hands in surrender, looking like he’s completely unable to comprehend what’s happening.

“I--”

“How _dare_ you,” Makoto spits, venom dripping from his voice. “How _dare_ you break up with me _through a fucking text!”_

“Mak--”

“Shut up!” Makoto barks. Sousuke cringes. Makoto can see the vein in his neck fluttering with his quickened heart rate. He rages on, “I have dated you _too_ long, I have put _too_ much effort into this relationship, I have--”

“Get _out_ of my _space!_ ” Sousuke yells, shoving Makoto away. Makoto drops his phone and grabs Sousuke’s collar. Sousuke’s hands fly up to Makoto’s collar as well and they grapple each other’s shirts, stumbling down the hallway before Makoto is able to push him away. Sousuke stumbles back, nearly falling over, and breathes hard as he backs away. Makoto comes at him and snatches up his wrist, squeezing hard.

“I have poured _too much_ into this relationship to be thrown away like this!” Makoto bellows. Sousuke grits his teeth.

“ _Let go of me!_ ”

Sousuke grabs up Makoto’s other wrist with his free hand. They stand at a stalemate, shaking with the effort to squeeze the other’s wrists. Makoto’s hand begins to go numb, so he squeezes harder and harder until they’re both grunting with pain. Finally, Sousuke manages to shove Makoto off of him.

“ _Why?!_ ” Makoto cries. Sousuke flinches as his voice breaks. “How _could_ you? After everything, you can’t even manage a _phone call?_ ”

“I told you, I’d only fuck it up if I said those things out loud!”

“I don’t care! You didn’t even care about my _feelings_ , you didn’t give me a chance to _talk_ about this, or at least try to help you! You have _never_ trusted me!”

“You’re wrong!”

“ _I’m not wrong!_ ” Makoto roars. He comes forward, grabbing Sousuke’s collar in both hands. He shakes him. “You think I’m some sort of idiot? You think I can’t tell you’re lying when you say you’re fine? You’re _not_ fine! You’re fighting alone and you won’t _let me in!_ ”

With every syllable, he jostles Sousuke. Sousuke grabs his wrists tightly, but doesn’t push him away.

“What could’ve _possibly_ been going through your mind when you sent those texts?” Makoto whispers. His voice rises into a shout again, “Is this some sort of _joke_ to you?! Was this some sort of _prank?_ ”

“No!”

_“Then what?!”_

“I-I don’t know!” Sousuke cries. “I don’t know. I really don’t know.”

Makoto’s grip loosens on Sousuke’s shirt as he slaps his hands over his eyes.

“I couldn’t sleep, I kept thinking about you, and what I’d done, what I’m _doing_ to you, and the more I thought, the worse it was. And I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“So, _somehow_ , that led up to you breaking up with me through a _text_ message,” Makoto says harshly. Sousuke wrings his hands.

“I was too afraid,” he whispers. “I didn’t want to hear you be upset.”

“Well, it’s a little too late for that, now,” Makoto growls. He releases Sousuke and steps back. Sousuke just hangs his head in shame, his fingers knotted in his hair. “You have anxiety and I get that. I get that sometimes you start thinking about things and you go into this… this pit of self-doubt. And you bury yourself in lies until you’re in too deep to get out. I get it that I am not your cure.”

Makoto puts his hand over his heart.

“But if you think for _one_ second that I’d rather be on the _outside_ , not knowing, unable to be there for you when you need it, then you _really_ are the _worst!_ ”

Sousuke stares at Makoto for a long time before he looks down at the floor, shaking.

“I was taking more than I was giving. I didn’t… th-think you’d want to be with someone like that,” Sousuke says. His voice quivers and he hides his face from Makoto. “Even when I tried to give you what you wanted, the anxiety got in the way. I couldn’t even do something as easy as have sex with you. I’ve tried everything, I’ve read every article, every stupid guide, no matter what I did I couldn’t make that happen for you, no matter how much I wanted it.”

“Sex is an important thing to me,” Makoto admits. “But it was _never_ , and _will_ _never_ , be as important to me as you are. I don’t care if it takes weeks or months or years. I want to help you through it.”

“Why?” Sousuke asks. His voice cracks and when he looks up, his eyes are swimming with tears. “Why the fuck would you put yourself through that when you deserve so much better?”

“It’s obvious. I love you,” Makoto says quietly. Sousuke hiccups and the tears begin to fall freely as he covers his face with his elbow. Makoto continues, “When I fell in love with you, I didn’t fall in love with only the good parts. I fell in love with the anxiety, too. And your wrecked shoulder, and your roughness, and even all of your teasing.”

Makoto takes a breath and looks down, staring at the floor as he listens to Sousuke weep.

“And up until now, I thought you had fallen in love with the bad parts about me, too. I can’t communicate. I force everything down until I can’t fit any more anger inside of me, and it comes out explosively. I have to please everyone or I’ll tear myself up. I have to feel validated and needed to be happy. I’m not the perfect person you think I am. I have flaws just like you, and if you think I’m somehow better than you, maybe you don’t know me as well as you think.”

Makoto sets his jaw and crosses his arms.

“Maybe we _both_ don’t know each other as well as we think.”

He waits for Sousuke to stop hiccupping.

“I _did_ fall in love with the bad parts,” Sousuke sniffles. “Those don’t even make you a bad p-person.”

“And your anxiety makes _you_ a bad person?” Makoto counters. Sousuke shuts his mouth and scrubs at his cheek with the heel of his hand. “I’ve never seen you as bad. Trapped, maybe. Someone who has difficulty trusting other people.”

“I…” Sousuke trails off. He sniffs and wipes his eyes again. “I don’t distrust you. It’s never been an issue of trust. I knew you wouldn’t judge me for what was happening. But having anxiety, it… it’s like a big wall. In my head. And I can’t climb over it because every negative thought I have feels like a hundred pounds on my chest. I thought about it last night, and that’s the only way I can describe it. I fear things and worry about things no one else worries about. I worry about it until it eats me alive.”

Sousuke sways on his feet for a moment and swallows.

“Can we… can we sit down? I need to come clean about something,” he asks. Makoto nods and they go to the living room together, where they sit down on Sousuke’s couch. Sousuke leans back, rubs his hands together, and jiggles his leg. He looks up at the ceiling, then down at his hands, and takes breaths like he’s going to start talking.

“Sousuke,” Makoto says softly. He puts his hand on Sousuke’s thigh and his leg stops bouncing. “Please talk to me.”

“My medication has been fucking with me,” Sousuke mutters. “I can’t sleep. My appetite has been… spotty at best. I’ve been supplementing with… a _lot_ of protein. I’ve got a big jar of it in the cupboard. I’ve been hiding it. I didn’t want it to look like I was losing weight. But probably the stupidest thing is… well…”

Makoto rubs Sousuke’s thigh up and down, silently urging him on. Sousuke licks his lips and looks away as his cheeks and nose start to turn red.

“Uh… I can’t… I haven’t… gotten… you see…” he stammers. He gestures to his crotch and gulps. “ _This_ hasn’t been working. And that’s why I didn’t want to have sex. It’s not you.”

Makoto nods.

“For a while I thought it _was_ about me,” Makoto says. Sousuke tenses and looks down. “I thought I wasn’t attractive enough. Or that I was annoying you. Or that you didn’t want to because I’m a man.”

“Bullshit,” Sousuke hisses. “Before I was put on the new medication, everything about you turned me on. Okay, that sounded really stupid.”

Makoto laughs softly as Sousuke blushes and runs his hands through his hair.

“I’m serious. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I used to have these really… really vivid dreams, and I’d wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, I don’t think I went a single night without jerking off to the thought of you,” Sousuke says. He makes a face. “…Or something… something like that.”

It occurs to Makoto that he should probably be embarrassed right now, but he simply isn’t. The relief of Sousuke finally opening up to him makes him happier than he can describe. There’s too much to talk about right now to even think about being embarrassed.

“And then I got the new prescription,” Sousuke says, face turning dark. “It was fine at first, but gradually I felt like something was going wrong. But Dad stacked the pressure to take it, and I figured that it had something to do with my shoulder surgery, too. I mean… _this_ is the hand I use to masturbate.”

He lifts his right hand. The sarcasm in his voice makes Makoto giggle.

“So I thought, ‘alright, it’s just because my arm is in a sling’. But then, even as I healed, nothing worked. Couldn’t get hard for the life of me, no matter what kind of porn I looked at or what I imagined. Oh, and if you’re wondering, I tried to imagine you with boobs and I literally felt myself shrink. So this has nothing to do with you being a guy. I love your body. I love the masculinity and all of your ‘equipment’ just the way it is.”

Makoto laughs again and Sousuke gives him a petulant look.

“Oi. Quit laughing at me.”

“Sorry,” Makoto says, smiling brightly. “I’m just so happy we’re finally talking about this.”

“Ten minutes ago you were about to rip my dick off.”

“Haru once told me I've got a long fuse, but the explosion is short."

“I see,” Sousuke says. “Thank god. I almost pissed myself when I first saw you. I think my life flashed before my eyes. Has anyone ever told you that you’re scary when you’re mad?”

“This is just a break to collect my thoughts. I’m not done being angry yet, Sousuke,” Makoto says through gritted teeth. Sousuke lifts his hands in surrender.

“Alright. Yeah. Got it.”

“But in all seriousness,” Makoto says. His smile fades and he looks up into Sousuke’s eyes. He takes a small breath, somewhat struggling to get the words out, “Are we really going to break up?”

Sousuke frowns and looks away.

“Um… okay, look. It was five in the morning and I had been… crying. A lot. And I was depressed and upset, and I made a stupid impulse decision. If… if breaking up is what you want, fine. I won’t cling to a relationship. If you say no, it means no. All of that stuff,” Sousuke says. He fidgets, roughly scrubbing at his arm. “But I don’t want to. I don’t want to break up at all. I didn't at the time, either, but I honestly thought it was the only option.”

“I don’t want to, either,” Makoto murmurs. Sousuke gulps. A shaking smile comes to his lips.

“…Awesome.”

Makoto laughs again.

“You keep laughing,” Sousuke points out. Makoto shrugs.

“You make me laugh. You really don’t know how funny you are,” he says. Sousuke shifts and grins.

“Well, it’s definitely better than seeing you cry,” Sousuke says. His voice goes quiet, “I didn’t tell you a lot of these things because I knew you’d cry.”

“And yet the only one who has been crying here is you,” Makoto says flatly. Sousuke grimaces.

“I’m _stressed out_ , okay? I’m stupid because of the finals!” Sousuke huffs. He scrubs at his red, puffy eyes and gives an irritable sniff that has Makoto giggling. He leans in to kiss the pout off of Sousuke’s face. For once, Sousuke is the one to melt into a kiss. He sags against Makoto and kisses him back enthusiastically.

They don’t say anything after that, but Makoto cradles Sousuke’s head against his shoulder and rocks him.

“…Come back with me over the holidays,” Makoto murmurs into Sousuke’s hair. Sousuke lifts his head, looking a little sleepy. Makoto wonders if he had been about to fall asleep.

“Come… you mean to Iwatobi? Where would I stay?” he asks. Makoto smiles.

“In my house,” he says, stroking Sousuke’s hair back. “You could work part-time with me. Iwatobi Market still needs help. I think you could use some time away from Tokyo. You spent a ton of time here when you were younger, so you’re probably used to it. But the big city must still tire you out sometimes.”

“It does,” Sousuke admits. He nuzzles up against Makoto again, returning his head to the crook of his neck. “Yeah. I’d love to come back to Iwatobi with you over break.”

“It’d be nice and relaxing,” Makoto coos, petting Sousuke’s hair over and over. “And while we’re there, we can enjoy the ocean, go camping… and maybe we could work on your problem together.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you said you had a doctor’s appointment to get your prescription changed… so maybe once you’re on a different medication…” Makoto mumbles. Now he’s getting embarrassed. Flushing deep red, a tiny, coy smile appears on his lips. “...I don’t know, maybe we could try out some things. And see if it t-turns you on.”

Sousuke lifts his face and smirks.

“Like some weird sex training?” he teases. Makoto’s face turns a deeper shade of red and he shrugs helplessly.

“W-Well, that’s--”

There’s a loud knock at the door. Sousuke and Makoto freeze, staring at each other.

“Oh _no_ ,” Sousuke groans as the door to his apartment opens.

“Sousuke?” comes the voice of Iwao. Makoto and Sousuke stand as Iwao enters the living room. His eyes land on Makoto and he gapes for a moment before smiling politely at him. The smile doesn’t touch his eyes. “Oh? It’s been a while, Makoto. My son informed me that the two of you had ended things, so I’m confused as to why you’re here.”

“Dad, I--” Sousuke begins, trying to step towards Iwao. However, Makoto outstretches his arm, stopping him. He steps in front of Sousuke protectively.

“Did you do this on purpose?” Makoto asks, his voice dark. Iwao’s smile quickly becomes a frown.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

“The antidepressants,” Makoto snaps. The anger inside of him returns with a vengeance and he finds himself unable to stop as he marches up to Iwao and faces him head-on, eyes flashing and his jaw set. “Did you know what they were doing to Sousuke?”

“Are you perhaps insinuating that my son’s faulty medication was somehow my doing?” Iwao asks. He tilts his chin up slightly, looking down his nose at Makoto with squinted eyes. “Are you _implying_ that I would do such a thing to my own son?”

“I don’t know,” Makoto snarls. “You sure put a lot of pressure on Sousuke to take them.”

“Wait just a second, Dad, Makoto--” Sousuke begins. Iwao holds up a hand to silence his son.

“No. I’d like to hear this. Makoto, why don’t you explain to me how someone like you--a mere child--should have _any_ right to make the accusations you are making right now,” Iwao growls. His voice becomes dangerously low and Makoto’s face falls slightly as Iwao crowds him and forces him back. He hits the back of his leg on the coffee table, nearly toppling over on top of it. Iwao looms over him like a storm. “You _dare_ accuse me of sabotaging my son intentionally and making him feel this way?”

“W-Well--” Makoto whispers. He’s starting to regret this with every second it goes on. Iwao looks murderous.

“ _Dad!_ ” Sousuke yells. Iwao grabs Makoto by the back of his shirt like a mother cat would grab her kitten by the scruff of the neck. Makoto gasps sharply as Iwao starts forcibly tugging him away from Sousuke.

“I think it’s time for you to leave,” Iwao gruffs. “Get out, before I call the police.”

“Let go of him!” Sousuke yells, running forward. He grabs Iwao’s arm, shaking him. Makoto wheezes as his shirt pulls flush up against his throat. Sousuke’s breathing hard. Too hard. His eyes are open wide and his pupils are blown. Makoto grabs at him, clinging to him as the three of them tangle together. Makoto doesn’t know which hand is which.

“The only one causing you grief is this boy!” Iwao shouts. Sousuke’s breathing is getting erratic. Makoto’s about to rip his shirt off to get away from Iwao, who is all but dragging him to the door now.

“ _You’re wrong!_ ” Makoto bellows. He blindly rears his fist back and throws a punch, but Sousuke catches his wrist.

“Makoto, _don’t!_ ”

The room goes silent, save for Sousuke’s breathing, which is hard and fast. Slowly, Sousuke brings one hand to his sternum and the other to his belly, like he’s making an attempt to control his heaving chest.

“C-Can’t—burns,” Sousuke wheezes between short, ragged gasps for air.

“Sousuke. Son, you’re hyperventilating,” Iwao says. He instantly releases Makoto, instead turning his focus to Sousuke. He grabs his face in both hands. Sousuke reaches out and grabs his father’s suit jacket hard, pulling at him. His entire body tenses and wages war against him. Iwao lets go of Sousuke for a moment to strip off his suit jacket and roll up the sleeves of his dress shirt. He turns sharply to Makoto. “He’s having an attack. Get a blanket and some water, right now.”

Makoto hesitates slightly, glancing at Sousuke.

“ _Now!_ ” Iwao barks. Makoto jumps and bolts out of the living room to get the things Iwao wanted. He grabs Sousuke’s blanket from his bed, then runs to the kitchen to fill a cup with water. When he returns, Sousuke’s on his back on the couch. Iwao kneels over him, one palm against his cheek, and the other clutching Sousuke’s hand flat against his own chest. Makoto stands there, transfixed, as Iwao works to regulate Sousuke’s breathing with his own.

Makoto hugs Sousuke’s blanket. The sight of Sousuke losing control of his body is just as terrifying as the first time he saw it. Sousuke's toes are curling and uncurling as his heels dig into the couch cushion, as if every muscle in his body is on fire. Squirming, he lets out a strangled sound that sounds a lot like ‘Dad’.

“It’ll be over soon. Keep breathing,” Iwao says lowly. Sousuke’s fingers curl on his father’s shirt. Iwao shows no indication of caring that his shirt might get ripped with the force Sousuke is using to grip him. He looks over his shoulder, spots Makoto, and scowls at him. “What are you standing there for? Come _here!_ ”

Makoto jumps to obey him.

“Put the blanket over his legs and tuck it in. Not too tightly. Just so he doesn’t hurt himself if he kicks. Water on the coffee table,” Iwao instructs. Makoto silently does what he’s told. “Go get a towel.”

Makoto doesn’t hesitate this time and jogs to the bathroom to grab a towel. He brings it back, and Iwao takes it to dab at the sweat on Sousuke’s face and neck. When Iwao doesn’t ask him for anything else, Makoto shakily rubs his hands together. After a while, Sousuke manages to take control of his breathing again, but the attack rages on in the form of uncontrollable, intense muscle spasms and tension.

All at once, Makoto feels horrible for accusing Iwao of doing this on purpose. When he looks at Iwao’s eyes, so diligently trained on his son, he knows that there is no way he would subject Sousuke to this pain. Not when his eyes reflect the same agony Sousuke is feeling right now.

Makoto stares at the floor, absolutely helpless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friend [Diana.](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com)
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	30. Chapter 30

The attack lasts a grueling twenty-five minutes.

Makoto has never seen anything so awful in his life. He’d give anything to never see it again. Eventually, Sousuke calms down and the muscle tension stops. By the end of it, all three of them are exhausted.

Sousuke falls asleep almost immediately after it ends; there are little red splotches around his eyes that show he had been crying. Makoto sits with Sousuke’s head nestled in his lap, stroking his hair over and over as he snores softly. Nearby, Iwao leans out of the open window, smoking a cigarette.

“Iwao-san,” Makoto whispers. He looks down, ashamed. “I’m… I’m so sorry.”

Iwao withdraws from the window as he exhales, puts out his cigarette, and turns to face Makoto.

“I don’t know what Sousuke has been saying to you about me, but it was never my intention for him to develop any nasty side effects from the medication he was taking. To me, the most important thing was that he stopped having such intense physical anxiety attacks,” Iwao says. He points to his son. “ _Just_ like the one he just had. Believe it or not, I _do_ love him. And I want what’s best for him. And I do _not_ tolerate _anyone_ accusing me of sabotaging my son’s health. Have I made myself clear, young man?”

“Yes, sir,” Makoto whimpers. He tangles his fingers in Sousuke’s hair, rubbing a silky black lock between his thumb and forefinger to give himself an excuse to not look Iwao in the eye. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Iwao is silent. He crosses his arms and looks down at Sousuke and Makoto, his expression dark. Makoto squirms under the weight of his gaze.

“Sousuke mentioned that the two of you broke up,” Iwao says. He takes a seat on the coffee table, looking at Makoto evenly. “And that he wanted to spend some time with me. I actually came here to pick him up.”

So that’s why Sousuke had all of his things with him when he answered the door. Nibbling his lip, Makoto nods.

“Um… we had a really big fight,” he says. Iwao grunts. “A-About… communication. And Sousuke… well, he broke up with me through a text, and I wasn’t going to accept that.”

“Communication,” Iwao hums thoughtfully. He crosses his legs and arms, nodding. “I see.”

 “He said he was too afraid to stay with me. Because he thought he was hurting me. Which… I mean, okay, that’s a little true. But I want to be with him anyway.”

He cradles Sousuke’s head. Sousuke murmurs in his sleep and snuggles against Makoto’s stomach.

“Being with him will not cure his anxiety,” Iwao says sternly. “You won’t ‘fix’ him. You can’t ‘heal’ him.”

“I know.”

“There may come a day when you tire of his worrying and fretting. One day, you might decide that his insecurities are too much for you to withstand,” Iwao continues. Makoto looks up and Iwao glares back at him, his expression bitter. “And you will leave him.”

“Is that what happened to you, Iwao-san?” Makoto asks before he can catch himself. Iwao’s lips pinch together. He pushes up his glasses and clears his throat.

“Depression, anxiety disorder, panic disorder; it all runs in the family on my side,” Iwao admits. “Sousuke is not an isolated case. He claims that his anxiety started when he ruined his shoulder. That is simply not the case. He has always shown small signs of anxiety, and it flared after his injury. I have worked through my depression and my anxiety through years and years of hard work. Personal success has dragged me out of a depressive state, more or less. I still rely on medication, but the hard work and my own success helps me conquer it. I can’t help but wonder if that’s the best method for my son, too.”

Iwao reaches out and brushes Sousuke’s cheek with his knuckles. He looks absolutely exhausted as he touches Sousuke, eyes drooped.

“I worry about him working too hard and not receiving adequate compensation for what he’s doing. I want him to be financially successful, so he has access to any resources he may need as he grows older. I don’t know if he mentioned this to you, but I was homeless for a decade before Sousuke was born,” Iwao says. Makoto blinks, shocked. “I was only given a fighting chance because his mother agreed to marry me once we learned of the pregnancy. I had a lucky break; her father was able to land me a job in a relatively successful company. From there, I fought tooth and nail for what I have now. But the steps to get here were… unpleasant. So much of my life was spent fighting for things that some people are born with. I wonder if I’ve wasted my life.”

Iwao removes his glasses to rub his eyes.

“The thought of Sousuke being subjected to that pain and sense of helplessness keeps me awake at night. Of course, I would never allow him to be homeless. I will provide him with whatever he needs until my dying day. I’ve already decided that he will inherit all of my wealth. _Everything_. I am not giving a cent of it to my ex-wife, nor her family, who threw Sousuke and I away when they found out that they couldn’t make our depression and anxiety disappear. My depressive cycles became too much on an inconvenience. My ex-wife loves Sousuke, but only shows it when he’s not anxious. When his anxiety isn’t being an inconvenience to her.”

His face becomes bitter and angry again. Sighing, Iwao rubs his temples.

“I have to start thinking about retiring, but I don’t want to waste money on myself when I could be accumulating more wealth for his inheritance. ”

“Um,” Makoto says. “I-I don’t… I don’t think you have enough faith in Sousuke, Iwao-san. Forgive me if that’s rude to say. I think you’re pushing your own fears on him, and it’s making him even more anxious. He doesn’t… he doesn’t want to work for your company.”

Iwao narrows his eyes and Makoto continues, shaking.

“He doesn’t w-w-want to make a f-fortune, he just wants to help people not make the same m-mistake he did,” Makoto stammers. “And… and I think you should respect that. M-Maybe. I th-think physical therapy and le-learning from his mistakes helps his anxiety. A-And you said you felt like you wasted your life b-by… by fighting for what you have. If Sousuke joins your company and doesn’t want to, w-wouldn’t he be wasting his life, too?”

Iwao is quiet for a long time, tapping his foot and thinking. Makoto’s sweating profusely, unable to meet Iwao’s eyes. Finally, Iwao lets out a long, tired sigh.

“And what if his plans fall through?” Iwao asks.

“Then I’ll work for your stupid company.”

Iwao and Makoto look down at Sousuke, whose eyes are open now. He blinks at Iwao, then shuts his eyes again.

“Honestly. Quit talking my boyfriend’s ears off with our entire life story. It’s annoying. If things fall through, I’ll work for your company. But my plans won’t fall through. This is what I’m going to do with my life. Get over it.”

Iwao’s lips form a thin line, his expression becoming indignant.

“I don’t recall raising such a rude and cocky child,” he huffs. His tone sounds exactly like Sousuke’s when Makoto teases him. Sousuke smirks.

“Like I said. Get over it.”

Iwao reaches out like he’s going to grab Sousuke’s nose or something, but Sousuke catches his arm and wrestles his hand away. Makoto’s worried at first, but then Iwao’s stoic face cracks into a very small smile.

“I’m not working for your company. I’m not going to leave Japan,” Sousuke says, suddenly serious as he squeezes his father’s wrist. Iwao frowns. “And I’m _not_ leaving Makoto.”

“He doesn’t get my blessing until he proves that you’re not disposable to him. Anxiety and all.”

“He’s not Mom.”

Iwao sets his jaw, pulling his hand back from Sousuke’s grasp.

“This has nothing to do with your mother,” he denies.

“Liar,” Sousuke counters. Iwao bristles. “Look. The world isn’t divided into people with mental health issues and people without them. At the end of the day we’re all a bunch of idiots trying to figure out what’s going on. A bunch of idiots acting like we know what we’re doing. Some of us have a harder time with it than others. It’s no reason to shut each other out, and no reason to give up on loving each other.”

Makoto stares at Sousuke, dumbfounded.

“I’ll love whoever the hell I want. If they’re rich or poor, mentally healthy or not, guy or girl,” Sousuke says. He flashes his father an irritated look. “Makoto doesn’t have an anxiety disorder, but he understands me _just_ as much as you do. And the things he doesn’t understand? He’s willing to try. Today I didn’t expect him to come barging into my apartment. I thought everything was over, because there was no way he’d be able to love me after seeing that. But he came here anyway and wasn’t afraid to damn near kick the shit out of me. And as it turns out, a swift kick in the ass was _exactly_ what I needed. He _gets_ me.”

“Sousuke,” Makoto whispers, unable to hold back as he squeezes Sousuke’s head tightly in his arms. Iwao looks on silently. Makoto can’t stop chanting, “Sousuke, _Sousuke_.”

“But I… _guess_ I appreciate it. I thought you just wanted me to leave Makoto to make a ton of money just so you could retire early,” Sousuke mutters. Iwao furrows his brow.

“What on _earth_ are you talking about? I just don’t want you to end up struggling to get by. I don’t want you to be unable to access proper medication. I don’t want you to struggle to find shelter. Like I said, I want you to inherit everything. I can’t retire peacefully until I know you’re financially set. You _know_ about my time being homeless,” Iwao explains. “What other ridiculous misconceptions do you have about me?”

Makoto sighs, inwardly rolling his eyes. He knew it. Sousuke is blowing a lot of what his father says out of proportion. Maybe Makoto and Sousuke aren’t the only ones with a communication problem.

“Did you even try _explaining_ it to Sousuke?” Makoto asks. Iwao opens his mouth, shuts it, and looks away.

“…No.”

“That’s right. You didn’t,” Sousuke snaps. Makoto purses his lips and gives Sousuke a look.

“And did _you_ even try asking him why he felt that way?”

Now it’s Sousuke’s turn to shut his mouth.

“We are… a bit lacking in the communication department,” Iwao admits. He clears his throat. Makoto laughs. Once again, Iwao and Sousuke’s similarities are striking. “This… is actually the first civilized conversation we’ve had since… I can’t even remember when.”

“Iwao-san, forgive me, but I think you put too much pressure on Sousuke. And Sousuke, you _definitely_ exaggerate what your dad does. And you’re kind of a brat about it.”

“What the hell?” Sousuke snarls as Iwao chuckles. “Why did my dad get Mr. Polite and not me?”

“You’re not off the hook with me yet,” Makoto says, his voice overly cheerful. Sousuke snaps his mouth shut. Makoto looks back to Iwao, “Iwao-san, I think you can be overbearing when it comes to Sousuke’s health.”

“Of course I am. He insists that he wants to live alone, even though my apartment is closer to campus than this apartment,” Iwao says. “I give him the freedom to do what he wants, study what he wants, and date who he wants. I want respect for what I give him.”

He looks down at Sousuke, frowning.

“I just want to be respected. And obeyed when I tell you to take your medication, so I don’t have to worry about you being all alone when you have anxiety attacks,” Iwao presses. Sousuke looks away. “Is that so bad? Is what I expect out of you so bad that you _hate_ me for it?”

“Okay, first off, why should I respect you when you don’t respect me?” Sousuke asks. He sits up, struggling slightly. Makoto supports him with a hand on his back; he’s sure he’s sore from all of the muscle tension during his attack.

“I do respect you,” Iwao says. Sousuke gives him an incredulous look.

“ _No_ , you don’t. You assume everything I do is some temporary thing. When I turned down those stupid marriage interviews, you literally told me to keep my options open when you knew I was dating Makoto. And you’re still sending me stupid emails about job openings in your company, even though _physical therapy_ is what I want to do with my life. It’s like you don’t even believe in me enough to make my own decisions. And second of all, I don’t _hate_ you.”

“I--” Iwao begins. Makoto can practically see the gears of his brain turning. It reminds him of his own dad, who doesn’t like admitting he’s wrong. Iwao takes a deep breath. “…Alright. In regards to those emails, I thought maybe you’d be interesting in just having a part-time job to get some extra cash in your pocket. And… I’ll admit, I didn’t think you’d be with Makoto for this long.”

Sousuke bristles, but Makoto pats his back and gives a tiny shake of his head.

“You’ve always liked girls, so I didn’t know if you were experimenting or not,” Iwao explains. “And I didn’t know if you were absolutely sure. Maybe I was just… inadvertently testing you. But you seemed serious about him, so I didn’t bring up marriage interviews again.”

“I thought you just wanted me to marry a rich girl,” Sousuke says.

“I do. I mean, I want you to marry someone successful. Someone who works hard to get what they want. And… I’ll admit, I’m worried about your relationship with another man because you can’t get married. Are both of you prepared for that reality?” Iwao asks. His eyes land on Makoto, staring at him. “Do you realize you can’t have a family? Children?”

Makoto looks down.

“Obviously,” Sousuke scoffs.

“You haven’t even discussed this, have you?” Iwao asks. “Look at Makoto.”

Makoto flinches as Sousuke looks to him.

“Wait, what?”

Makoto shrugs helplessly.

“I-I don’t know, I guess I’ve always dreamt of getting married and starting a family. But I’ve kind of… given up on those dreams, because I know it’s not possible for someone like me,” Makoto says. Sousuke blinks, looking startled.

“I didn’t… know anything about this.”

“I’m not about to deny your love for each other,” Iwao says before Makoto can reply. “I won’t try to come between the two of you, but be aware of the potential consequences. Be aware of what you can’t achieve as a committed couple. In the future, there will most likely be more anxiety regarding this. There will be more worrying. There will be conflict and your faith _will_ be tested. If you’re prepared to swallow that, then by all means, continue. If you can’t swallow reality, nothing will come out of it but heartbreak.”

Iwao takes a breath, holds it, and exhales.

“…That’s all I have to say. I realize you both have much to discuss, so I think I’ll take my leave,” he announces, standing. He grabs his suit jacket from the armrest of the couch and drapes it over his arm. “I am very glad I was able to talk to you, Sousuke.”

“Yeah,” Sousuke says. He hesitates slightly before standing and stepping up to his father. Iwao pulls him into his arms and they embrace for a long time. Iwao combs his fingers through Sousuke’s hair and holds him as if they haven’t hugged in years. For all Makoto knows, that might not be far from the truth.

“I love you, son,” Iwao murmurs. He pulls back to kiss Sousuke’s forehead. Sousuke squirms.

“Jeez, I’m not a kid,” Sousuke grumbles. Iwao releases him and Sousuke smooths his hair down. “…Love you too, Dad.”

“Drink the water and rest. Makoto, why don’t you show me to the door?” Iwao asks. Sousuke glances between Makoto and his father, suspicion in his eyes. Makoto hesitates, but Iwao beckons him. “Come along, now. That wasn’t a suggestion. I’d like to have a word with you in private.”

Makoto obediently trots after Iwao as they head to the front door, where Iwao pauses with his hand on the doorknob.

“Makoto, as it stands, my feelings towards you are complicated. I certainly don’t hate you. You’re a kind and gentle young man. And someone who Sousuke loves very much, I can tell. But he is my treasured son. My _only_ son,” Iwao says. He turns to face Makoto, his eyes dark and severe. “I won’t get in his way anymore, and I will be careful with how I talk to him about other job opportunities from now on. You’ve made many compelling points today that I need to assess. But let me make one thing clear.”

Iwao leans in, towering over Makoto and staring straight into his eyes, piercing him.

“…If I ever catch wind that you have tossed him aside like garbage for no reason other than his anxiety, I will _hunt you down_ ,” he whispers. “…Have I made myself clear?”

“ _Crystal_ clear, sir,” Makoto squeaks, petrified. Iwao smiles and reaches up to pat Makoto’s head.

“You’re a nice boy. I’ll put my faith in you, just as Sousuke has. Don’t let me down,” he warns. “Have a nice day.”

As soon as Iwao leaves, Makoto slumps against the wall and puts his hand over his pounding heart. Now he’s sure _he’s_ going to have an anxiety attack.

“ _Scary_ ,” he moans.

“Makoto?” Sousuke calls from the living room. Makoto looks up at the sound of his voice and the fear leaves him as he returns to the living room. Sousuke grimaces at him. “I heard my dad use his ‘serious business’ voice, are you okay?”

“I think your dad is actually a demon,” Makoto whines. Sousuke laughs as Makoto flops down on the couch beside him.

“Sorry. He’s a long-winded old man. But…thanks,” Sousuke says slowly. “Me and my dad have never had a mediator for our… disagreements. And about the family thing--”

“I want to save that conversation for another time,” Makoto interrupts. Sousuke cocks his head.

“But…”

“Another time,” Makoto repeats. “Please. It’s… something I haven’t really decided on myself, either.”

“…Okay.”

 “Are you doing alright?”

“I’m sore. Feels like I was hit by a train,” Sousuke sighs. Makoto rubs his thigh.

“Poor thing,” he murmurs, but his tone is dark. Without warning, he squeezes hard, making Sousuke yelp and double over. He whimpers and squirms as Makoto digs his thumb sharply into his thigh muscles. Makoto smiles sweetly at him. “I think you owe me an apology.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Sousuke wheezes. He tries to shift his leg away from Makoto, but Makoto holds fast and digs his thumb deeper into his sensitive flesh. Leaning forward, Makoto mouths Sousuke’s neck before biting down and sucking. Sousuke gasps and tenses.

When Makoto finally lets go, Sousuke goes limp on the couch, trembling slightly. He reaches up to touch the fresh hickey on his neck.

“There’s a mark there, isn’t there,” he groans. Makoto smiles coyly. “That’s not like you. What are you, a sadist?”

“I was tired of people telling me how to feel,” Makoto says. His face becomes serious. “Even you. I wanted to wait for you to come to me on your own. Actually, I already had an idea that your medications were messing with you somehow. But you assumed my feelings for you don’t include all of your flaws, too. Sure, I’m gentle and I’m a scaredy-cat. I’m… overly sensitive, really. And everyone thinks I’m too soft to be in a relationship with someone like you. So it really hurt when even _you_ were saying that I’m too gentle for you.”

“…I see,” Sousuke says. He sighs. “I’m sorry. I don’t really think that. It was… that mindset at the time. It was the anxiety talking. A big part of me _wanted_ to tell you how I was feeling. But like I said. Big fucking wall in my head. Even _little_ things become an absolute clusterfuck in my mind. Not to mention, my brain probably wasn’t working right. Seeing as it was, you know, _five_ in the morning. I was kind of a mess. I woke up this morning and looked over the texts I sent, and I regretted it. I thought about calling you, but… I figured you never wanted to talk to me again.”

“Of course not. We’ve been together for a year. If you were serious about breaking up, you would’ve done it differently,” Makoto says. “That’s why I came running.”

“Ugh. I’m so stupid,” Sousuke groans. “I really can’t say sorry enough. I keep making excuses, but you really didn’t deserve that.”

Sousuke looks down at his folded hands in his lap.

“I know it sounds stupid. When I calm down, I know that it’s so irrational. Like, I’m aware of how stupid it is that I make up these wild scenarios. But when I start spiraling, it’s like I can’t even be rational anymore,” Sousuke says. He puts his head in his hands. “I wish I could explain it right. I thought you hated me for sure.”

“But we’ve been together for so long. And I tell you I love you all the time,” Makoto says, brows furrowing. Sousuke throws his hands up helplessly.

“I know! But still I thought to myself, ‘he’ll hate me if I tell him I can’t get it up’. ‘He’s going to hate me if I tell him what I’m thinking’. And even though I knew it’d get worse the longer I kept secrets, and that at some point it’d blow up in my face, I just couldn’t…” Sousuke trails off, holding out his hands as if the answer is going to fall into his open palms. “And I guess I was trying to save myself. I thought it’d be less painful if I ended it before… you hated me.”

“I don’t hate you. I could never hate you,” Makoto assures him. He scoots closer and Sousuke makes a soft, wounded sound in the back of his throat as Makoto nuzzles him. Taking Sousuke’s face into his hands, Makoto rains kisses down on his forehead, cheeks, and eyelids. When he pulls away, he smiles warmly. “And I have _no_ problems with reminding you of that whenever you need it.”

Sousuke sighs, his breath shaking as he nods and leans against Makoto.

“…Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friend [Diana.](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com)
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	31. Chapter 31

After that, Sousuke’s mood improves considerably. He doesn’t study on Sunday, and instead collapses in bed and sleeps for sixteen hours straight. Makoto stays with him the entire time, only leaving once to go home and get his notes so he can fit a little more studying in before Monday.

Finals begin on Monday and end on Wednesday for both of them. When it’s all over, they’re left with fried brains and cramped wrists, so they make up for it with an extra-large meat lover’s pizza and a make out session on the floor of Sousuke’s apartment.

Sousuke’s doctor’s appointment is on Thursday morning at eight, but Makoto is simply too tired to go with him. He sleeps until Sousuke comes home at ten and wakes him up to show him a little paper baggie with his new prescription in it.

“Mmmn, are those your new pills?” Makoto asks groggily. Sousuke sits on the edge of the bed and opens the bag.

“Yeah. They’re not as strong as the ones I’ve been taking, but stronger than the ones I was on before my surgery,” Sousuke explains. He peers at the label on his prescription bottle. “They were gonna to give me the same ones from before, but I talked with my dad and we agreed that I should probably still take something stronger than my first ones.”

Makoto yawns, rolls onto his stomach, and props himself up with his elbows. So Sousuke had a regular conversation with his father about a touchy subject? That’s certainly a good sign.

“When do you start taking them?” Makoto asks. Sousuke gives the bottle an experimental rattle, smiling down at them. Makoto can clearly see the relief in his eyes, and the sight of it makes him happy.

“Tomorrow. My doctor said I should give my old medication some time to leave my system just a little bit before I get started on my new one. Actually, she said I _should_ finish my original prescription,” Sousuke says. He tosses the prescription bottle in the air and catches it again, smirking. “…Obviously I didn’t let that shit fly.”

Makoto laughs, his voice still husky with sleep.

“You sound like you’re happy,” Makoto says. He flops back on the pillow and shuts his eyes. “I am, too.”

“Hell yeah. Oh, and… I asked about the erectile dysfunction thing,” Sousuke says slowly. Makoto opens his eyes and lifts his head again. Sousuke clears his throat and averts his eyes. “Uhh… yeah, well, she said there was medication for it, but… well, I didn’t really like the idea of boner pills. And then she said I could get a penis pump and I said I really don’t want to put a vacuum on my dick.”

Makoto laughs and buries his face in the pillow to muffle his giggles. Sousuke gently smacks Makoto’s head.

“ _Oi_ ,” he grunts. “Oh, and…okay, there’s more.”

Makoto lifts his head. Sousuke is looking away, a faint blush just under his eyes.

“I asked her what I could do at home. Stuff that would help,” he says. “And she suggested… getting intimate with someone.”

Sousuke rubs his arm. Makoto watches him, lips parted. Starry-eyed, he reaches out to take Sousuke’s arm.

“I’d _love_ to!” he blurts. Sousuke laughs as Makoto slaps his hand over his mouth and flushes red.

“Eager?” Sousuke murmurs. Before Makoto can answer, Sousuke turns and leans down to kiss him. He pecks at his lips at first, then groans softly as he shifts his body so he’s hovering over Makoto. “We still have time before our flight back to Iwatobi, do you want to give it a try?.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Makoto gasps, moaning softly as Sousuke rolls his bottom lip between his teeth. The sting makes Makoto dizzy with lust. “Mmnn, hnn, how’re you so… mm… good at kissing?”

Sousuke pulls back, grimacing. Panting lightly, Makoto runs his tongue over his lips.

“I’m _jealous_ ,” he whispers hotly. Sousuke gulps and laughs a bit nervously.

“…Well, don’t be. I’ve only kissed a few girls in my life. Any skill I have is… self-practice,” Sousuke mutters. Makoto blinks.

“Eh? Self-practice?”

“Y’know, on… my own hand. And my wrist. A-And mirrors.”

The image of Sousuke kissing a mirror flashes across Makoto’s mind and he bursts into laughter. Slapping his forehead, he laughs and laughs until there are tears in his eyes. Huffing, Sousuke leans down and tries to kiss him, but Makoto laughs into his mouth. Growling, Sousuke lowers his head and gives Makoto a bite on the neck. Makoto’s giggles immediately become a broken moan, his body lurching.

“Payback,” Sousuke mutters. “For giving me a hickey the other night. When I ran into Sato on my way to my second exam, she pointed it out and laughed at me.”

“Do I have one now?” Makoto asks breathlessly. Sousuke pinches his lips together and looks.

“Um… no, I don’t think so? It’s kinda red where I bit,” Sousuke says. Makoto whines and rolls his head to the side, baring his neck.

“You can give me one, if… if you want,” he breathes. Sousuke blinks.

“Wh-What? Really? We’re going to Iwatobi tonight,” he warns.

“It doesn’t have to be on my neck,” Makoto says suggestively. He sits up abruptly, sending Sousuke toppling back on his butt. Makoto follows him on his hands and knees. “Anywhere.”

“Holy shit,” Sousuke says, leaning away from Makoto. “Is there a switch inside of you or something?”

Makoto breathes shallowly, eyes already glazed over and his lips cherry red. He tugs at the hem of Sousuke’s shirt.

“Can we take our clothes off?” he asks.

“Whoa. Calm down. Just… wait a second,” Sousuke says, his eyes full of concern. Makoto pouts and sits back on his heels as Sousuke swallows audibly. “I haven’t… okay, I’ve never done anything past making out with someone. And maybe touch a boob. Through a shirt.”

Sousuke clears his throat awkwardly and runs his hand through his hair.

“Me neither,” Makoto sighs, licking his lips. “I’m a virgin, too.”

As he tries to come forward again, Sousuke puts a hand on his chest and gently eases him back. Makoto sobers up a little and worries his lip between his teeth.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Can we take this slowly? I don’t want to try and… go all the way right now. I just want to try some things, okay? To see if it works,” Sousuke says. “I know you don’t want to wait anymore. I’m sorry.”

An anxious look crosses Sousuke’s face, but Makoto is quick to shake his head.

“N-No, I’ll… I’m the one who’s sorry. I’ve wanted to touch you so badly for so long. I couldn’t stop myself,” Makoto admits, voice quivering. Sousuke stares at him.

“Do you do that on purpose?” he asks softly. Makoto tilts his head.

“Do what?”

“Look so erotic.”

“Ero…” Makoto echoes, trailing off as he reaches up to dazedly touch his burning face. Sousuke averts his eyes.

“I mean, it’s sexy, don’t get me wrong,” Sousuke mutters. Makoto bites his lip. “But I don’t… know if I can get it up right away, sorry.”

 “It’s okay,” Makoto murmurs. He comes forward again, and this time Sousuke doesn’t stop him. Sousuke lies back, propped up with the pillow against the headboard, his elbows holding him up as Makoto looms over him. “I just want to touch you.”

“What… what do you want to do?” Sousuke asks slowly. Makoto taps the tip of his tongue against his upper lip and trails his gaze down Sousuke’s body, landing at his crotch.

“Can I use my mouth?” Makoto asks. Sousuke blinks at him for a moment, tensed.

“S-Sure,” he stutters. Makoto smiles and eagerly settles himself on his stomach between Sousuke’s legs. He works Sousuke’s belt open and pops the button of his jeans. Before he can continue, however, Sousuke grabs his wrist and whispers hoarsely, “Hold on.”

Makoto looks up at Sousuke, who stares back down at him with worried eyes. He slides his hands to Sousuke’s thighs.

“…Is this too weird? I’ll stop if you want,” Makoto says. It’s disappointing to say the least, but if Sousuke’s unsure… well, Makoto simply can’t get into it. He misses his cocky, rough Sousuke. He doesn’t like seeing him so nervous.

“I don’t want you to stop at all,” Sousuke says, strained. “But it’s hardly even reacting. I want this so badly and it’s not… fucking… _working_.”

He grips a fistful of hair in his hand and glares down at himself.

“You’re super turned on and I’m not,” he says. “It’s not fair to you. This is such bullshit.”

“It’s okay,” Makoto soothes, petting Sousuke’s thighs. “Calm down. More stress is just going to make it worse, right? Just let me try. I just want to try and make you feel good.”

Sousuke’s lips form a tight line and he finally nods, clenching his fists.

“I-I can’t promise you anything,” he mumbles. Makoto nods.

“It’s okay,” he repeats. Returning his hands to the front of Sousuke’s jeans, Makoto pulls down the zipper and opens his pants. With one more final confirming glance at Sousuke, he hooks his fingers in the elastic of his boxers and pulls them partway down. Unable to help himself, he lowers his head to pepper kisses across the soft skin just above his jet black pubic hair. It’s a sensitive place for himself, so maybe it’s a sensitive place for Sousuke?

Sousuke’s ab muscles give an involuntary lurch and he grunts softly. His hips give a little twitch.

“Tickles,” he breathes. Makoto tugs his boxers down a little more and very gently reaches in to pull out his cock. As expected, it’s not hard at all. Makoto lays it flat on Sousuke’s stomach, tracing his thumb up and down the underside of the shaft.

“Mm,” Makoto hums. It’s thick and heavy, probably six inches long. “Does it get bigger than this? When it’s hard?”

“Uh…” Sousuke hesitates to answer, sounding taken aback. “Shit. Not much? I’ve never measured or anything. I’m a shower more than a grower.”

“I see,” Makoto says. “This little scar here…”

“I’m cut. Do you like uncut ones more or something?”

“Not particularly…” Makoto muses, tracing his finger along the little circumcision scar just under the head. Sousuke jolts, and his dick gives a very weak twitch. Makoto smiles. “Did that feel good?”

“Y-Yeah,” Sousuke whispers. Makoto nods and lowers his head to kiss the same spot. His kisses turn into little licks, and he flicks his tongue along the underside of the head. Sousuke tastes a bit salty, and Makoto can faintly smell his natural musk. Moaning softly, he runs the flat of his tongue from base to tip. Above him, Sousuke breathes raggedly and shuts his eyes.

His cock has hardened just a tiny bit, which gives Makoto hope at first, but it soon becomes apparent that it’s not going to get much harder. Sousuke is rhythmically clenching his abs, obviously trying very hard to get his body to react the way he wants it to, but his dick only gives the occasional throb and remains stubbornly flaccid.

“Th-This… isn’t working,” Sousuke hisses. Makoto presses one last kiss to the tip before lifting his cherry red face. His moist, swollen lips hang open as he gazes up at Sousuke.

“Not even a little?” he asks, still somewhat dazed. He doesn’t realize that he has been slowly grinding his hips against the bed, his own erection pressed between the mattress and his hips. Sousuke looks down in shame and shakes his head.

“This is so fucking _humiliating_ ,” he groans. Makoto pushes himself up onto his knees. Sousuke flicks his eyes down to the tent in his basketball shorts and looks sharply away. “But you got hard?”

“Uh-huh,” Makoto says. Sousuke swallows and glances back.

“Are you going to show me?” he asks. Makoto licks his lips.

“Do you wanna see?”

Sousuke nods his head and Makoto chews his lip as he hooks his thumbs in his shorts and briefs and pushes them down slowly. The hairs between his legs are soft and a dark shade of brown, darker than the hair on his head.

“Is that the natural color?” Sousuke asks.

“Yeah,” Makoto says a bit shyly. “The sun makes the hair on my head lighter.”

“Oh,” Sousuke says. He smiles at that, and Makoto wonders if that little tidbit of information made him happy. The thought of that gives him butterflies in his stomach. Sousuke reaches out, hesitates, and then reaches out again to hook his index finger on the front of Makoto’s shorts. “Are you going to take these off?”

Makoto doesn’t answer. He swallows hard and pushes his shorts down lower and lower, revealing more of his cock until it springs out.

“You’re a grower,” Sousuke chuckles softly. Makoto flushes and nods, nibbling his lip. He’s big, longer than Sousuke but just a tad thinner and curved. “And you’re uncut, huh?”

“It’s clean. I always wash it really thoroughly,” Makoto says quickly. Sousuke laughs.

“I know. Is it true what they say? That uncut ones are more sensitive?” Sousuke asks. Makoto shivers at his low voice, his eyelids fluttering.

“I-I don’t know,” he whimpers. His hips give an involuntary twitch, making his cock bounce. The droplet of precum gathering at the slit trickles down the head, making him moan softly. “Sousuke…”

“Do you want me to uh… help?” Sousuke asks awkwardly. Makoto blushes, grabs the collar of his shirt, and lift it to his lips so he can bite it. He nods clumsily and Sousuke scoots closer. “Lie down.”

Makoto hurries to obey and lies on his back. Sousuke slides his shorts down to his knees and leaves them there, exposing Makoto’s muscled, pale thighs. As Makoto covers his mouth with his hiked-up shirt, Sousuke runs his fingernails lightly up and down the front of his thighs. Just as Makoto can’t take any more teasing, Sousuke takes his cock in his hand and gives it a slow, experimental pump. Makoto curls his toes.

“Is it too hard? Do you need me to do it harder?” Sousuke murmurs. Makoto shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut. Without letting go of Makoto’s cock, Sousuke lies down beside him and starts combing his fingers through his hair with his free hand.

“I waited so long,” Makoto mewls, bucking his hips weakly. “I w-wanted this so, mmn, _so_ badly.”

“I know,” Sousuke breathes, eyes transfixed on Makoto’s face as he slowly pumps him. “Does this feel good?”

“Yeah,” Makoto sighs. He lowers the shirt from his lips, letting his voice out. “ _Hnn_ , ah, it’s… it’s really good. B-But…”

“But…?” Sousuke presses. He kisses Makoto’s cheek and nuzzles it.

“C-Can… can you… could you maybe…” Makoto chokes. “ _Mmn_. Please p-pull my hair?”

Sousuke’s hand stops on Makoto’s cock. Whining at the loss, Makoto wiggles his hips and tries to get the friction back.

“You want me to _what?_ ”

“Y-You know… pull my hair. Just a little bit,” Makoto croaks. Sousuke hesitates before tangling his fingers into Makoto’s hair. He gives a gentle tug and Makoto shivers.

“Do you like having your hair pulled?” Sousuke asks. Makoto nods, and the movement increases the sting ever so slightly.

“A little harder,” Makoto says. Sousuke complies and pulls a little more. Makoto lets out a broken cry. “Yes! J-Just like that.”

“God,” Sousuke whispers. He starts moving his hand on Makoto’s cock again, moving a bit quicker. “You’re killing me here.”

He kisses his way from Makoto’s temple to his ear, breathing hotly into it.

“You’re so sexy,” he rumbles into his ear. Makoto arches his back and sobs with pleasure. Sousuke flicks his tongue over his earlobe and kisses it. “I used to daydream about this. About fucking you.”

“Oh my god,” Makoto squeaks, hips trembling and thighs sweating with exertion.

“Do you want me to stop?” Sousuke asks. Makoto frantically shakes his head as much as the fingers in his hair will allow.

“K-Keep t-t-talking, please, _god_ \--” Makoto babbles incoherently. “I’m so, _ah_ , close, I really--”

“I wish I could fuck you right now,” Sousuke hisses in Makoto’s ear. His cock gives a hard twitch in Sousuke’s hand and he feels his hips begin to ache as he toes the edge.

“Ah, ah! I’m—I’m cumming, _I’m--!_ ”

“Already? What a tease.”

Makoto’s lips stretch open in a silent scream as he arches his body. He cums so hard that he can’t feel anything but the pleasure of his orgasm for a few wonderful moments before he collapses on the bed. He pants harshly and looks down at himself. Sousuke is still gripping him, semen trickling down his fingers. More of it is coating Makoto’s belly.

“…I-I didn’t know… you like dirty talk,” Makoto pants. Sousuke gives him a somewhat perplexed look.

“I didn’t know, either. I felt like I had to say something, and that’s what came out,” he says. “If you don’t like it, I won’t do it anymore.”

“ _Please_ never stop doing it,” Makoto sighs, shutting his eyes. Sousuke laughs softly before gently unhanding Makoto and getting out of bed. As Makoto rests, he hears Sousuke leave the room for a minute. When he returns, Makoto feels the bed shift as he sits down, then the warm, wet feeling of a washcloth running over his skin. 

“Was it good for you?”

“It felt amazing,” Makoto mumbles, his words slurring a little.

“I meant what I said. I wish I could’ve done more for you,” Sousuke says. Makoto cracks open his eyes and peers up at Sousuke, who frowns back down at him. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get it up.”

“You don’t have to apologize so much. We’ll keep working on it,” Makoto says. “Together.”

“ _Jeez_ ,” Sousuke sighs. He pets Makoto’s hair and brushes his lips against his ear. “I love you.”

Sousuke’s lips tickle just behind Makoto’s ear, making him giggle and squirm. When Sousuke gives it a little lick, his laughter melts into a soft moan.

“Mmm, Sousuke, when was… hmmn… the last time you came?” Makoto asks a bit breathlessly. Sousuke groans softly into his ear.

“I can’t remember,” he whispers.

“Poor thing,” Makoto murmurs. He pets Sousuke’s arm and rolls onto his side so he can snuggle up against his chest. Their legs tangle together and Sousuke moves his arm to enclose Makoto in a warm embrace. His hand slides down to Makoto’s bare ass, tracing lightly over it before reaching lower and tugging up his briefs. Makoto wiggles his hips to help and kicks off his shorts.

“You look really sexy when you cum,” Sousuke comments. Makoto feels Sousuke’s lips smiling against his forehead as his cheeks burn.

“That’s… kinda weird,” Makoto laughs nervously. Sousuke massages his ass cheek and squeezes.

“Do you hate it when I talk like that?”

“Mm… n-no. I wouldn’t say that.”

“So you like it when I talk dirty?” Sousuke purrs. Makoto jolts and buries his face in Sousuke’s chest. He chuckles lowly. “I’ll take that as a yes. You’re kind of a kinky guy, aren’t you?”

“S-Stop teasing me so much.”

Sousuke laughs again and rolls partially on top of Makoto to kiss him. Makoto can’t help but notice that his hands aren’t going for his throat like they usually do. A little impatient, Makoto nips at Sousuke’s bottom lip.

“Mm, _fuck_ ,” Sousuke huffs wetly, grunting when he pulls back and Makoto tugs on his lip.

“How are you feeling? Are you anxious?” Makoto asks. Sousuke cocks an eyebrow.

“Not particularly. Pissed off that my dick isn’t doing anything when I’ve got a babe in my bed,” Sousuke says smugly. Makoto purses his lips at him.

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. I’m sure. Why do you ask?”

“You… well, you usually kinda… kiss me harder than that. And you put your hands on my neck,” Makoto mumbles. He taps his fingers together. Sousuke stares at him before his face breaks into a grin.

“Makoto, you’re a _god_ _damn_ minx.”

“Nobody says that anymore!” Makoto cries, wiggling as Sousuke drops his full weight on top of him and pins him to the mattress. “ _Sooousuke!_ You’re squishing me!”

He smacks Sousuke’s back, only succeeding in making him laugh harder.

“But seriously,” Sousuke says, pausing. He holds Makoto’s wrists against the sheets. As he leans in to kiss Makoto’s chin, his pendant lands heavily on Makoto’s sternum and makes him gasp. Sousuke continues, “I’m feeling okay. New medication. Finals are over. I’m looking forward to going to Iwatobi. It’s a good day. I’m not anxious.”

“Hmm… okay,” Makoto hums. Sousuke heaves a sigh.

“Okay, look. You don’t have to walk on eggshells around me. Anxiety is a part of me, but it doesn’t dominate every single part of my life. I… really hope everything that happened on Sunday isn’t going to change what you think of me.”

“No, no, I just… I want to be more aware of it. Like, I’m your boyfriend, so…” Makoto trails off. “Also, I feel bad. I feel bad for not communicating with you good enough to give you the courage to tell me the things that were worrying you. I feel bad for selfishly--”

Sousuke hushes him with a finger to his lips.

“Hey. Both of us could’ve done with better communication, and the responsibility of communicating isn’t _just_ on your shoulders. Can we just leave it at that?” Sousuke asks. Makoto nods mutely and kisses Sousuke’s finger. “I promise I’ll try to be more upfront with you. And I’ll… I’ll do my best not to let my own head trick me into thinking you don’t love me.”

“And I’ll do my best to understand,” Makoto says. Sousuke grins, caressing Makoto’s cheek. “I know I can’t break that wall down in your head, but I can try and help you climb it.”

Sousuke’s smile widens and he presses his forehead to Makoto’s, cupping his face in both hands. He laughs as if he just can’t hold back his joy.

It’s the most beautiful thing Makoto has ever heard.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friend [Diana.](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com)
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	32. Chapter 32

“Oh, fuck.”

Makoto turns to face Sousuke, who has stopped dead in his tracks in the middle of the sidewalk. They just arrived in Iwatobi, and the sun is just beginning to sink into the ocean. The sky is a beautiful canvas of reds and oranges and purples, and the smell of the sea is strong in the air. The only sound that can be heard is the distant sound of the waves crashing upon the shore of Iwatobi’s beaches. Here, Makoto feels truly at home, and he’s sure Sousuke does, too.

Now, however, Sousuke looks uncomfortable.

“What’s wrong?” Makoto asks. Sousuke shifts from foot to foot, bumping his duffel bag on his leg.

“Uhhh… well, I’m going to have to meet your parents, aren’t I?” he asks. Makoto blinks before bursting into giggles. Sousuke hunches his shoulders. “Quit laughing. Do they even know about me?”

“Mhm. I’ve talked about you, but never really mentioned that you’re my boyfriend. It’s okay, they won’t mind,” Makoto says cheerfully. “You’ll love my mom’s cooking.”

He starts to turn and start walking again.

“They’re… okay with it?”

“I’ve told you before, they know I’m gay,” Makoto says. “C’mon. You don’t have to be anxious.”

“…I’ll try and take your word for it,” Sousuke says, returning to Makoto’s side and walking with him. “What if they don’t like me?”

Makoto gently bumps his shoulder against Sousuke’s.

“They’ll like you. How much can you eat in one sitting?”

“Huh?”

“If you clean your plate at dinner, my mom will love you forever,” Makoto giggles. “Especially if you ask for seconds.”

“What about your dad?”

“Let him talk your ear off about fishing,” Makoto says. “Honestly, Sousuke. You’ll be fine. I promise.”

“Okay,” Sousuke says. He takes a deep breath. “Got it. I trust you.”

Makoto beams at Sousuke.

“I wouldn’t bring you home if--” he begins. Before he can finish, however, two tiny balls of energy come flying from around the corner and fly at Makoto at full speed.

“ _ONII-CHAN!_ ”

Makoto barely has time to brace himself before Ran and Ren crash into him. They climb on him like a pair of monkeys, making him grunt and stumble with the added weight.

“Ran, Ren, _honestly!”_ Makoto groans as his little siblings squirm all over him. He drops his duffel bag so he can use both arms to bring the twins into a tight hug. “You’re getting way too heavy for this!”

“Onii-chan, Onii-chan!” Ran and Ren chant, dragging Makoto down until he’s forced to get down on one knee. They hop around him, clinging to his shirt and tugging on it.

“Welcome home!” Ran cries, throwing her arms around Makoto’s neck. Ren, meanwhile, bursts into tears and scrunches up his face.

“We missed you _so_ _much_ ,” he blubbers, big fat tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Jeeeez, quit crying, Ren!” Ran scolds. Makoto laughs and ruffles his little brother’s hair.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. I’m home. I missed you guys, too. Have you gotten taller?” he asks. Ran hops up and down.

“Mom said I grew a whole inch! And Daddy said we have to get new jeans for me soon!”

“Me too, me too!” Ren cries between hiccups. Makoto cups his head and brings him in to kiss his forehead. Ren wails and clings to Makoto like his life depends on it. Sighing, Makoto pats his back.

“Sousuke, can you get my duffel bag?” Makoto asks over the commotion. Sousuke, who has been quiet the whole time, nods mutely and picks up Makoto’s duffel bag. Makoto hooks his arms under both twins and, struggling, hauls himself to his feet. “ _Nnn_ , you two are way too big for this! Ten-year-olds shouldn’t be carried by their brothers!”

Ran and Ren just cling to him tighter. Makoto adjusts his grip on them and flashes Sousuke an apologetic smile.

“Sorry. It seems I’ve spoiled these two way too much,” he laughs. Sousuke gives him a little smirk.

“I’ll say,” he says. They continue walking to the staircase leading up to Makoto’s house.

“Okay, I _really_ can’t carry _both_ of you guys all the way up the stairs,” Makoto grunts.

“Ren can be carried, I _guess_ ,” Ran sniffs, wriggling to get down from Makoto. “But _I_ get to hold your hand.”

“No fair,” Ren whines against Makoto’s shoulder. “I want to hold Onii-chan’s hand, too.”

“You’re already being carried,” Makoto sighs. Ren whimpers, but doesn’t show any signs of wanting to get down. They start up the stairs all together, Sousuke trailing slightly behind. Ran glances back and tugs at Makoto’s shirt.

“Onii-chan, there’s a scary man following us,” she whispers. Makoto smiles as Sousuke makes an indignant sound behind them.

“I _heard_ that,” he snarls. Ran squeaks and hurries up the steps, dragging Makoto’s hand with her.

“That ‘scary man’ is Sousuke. He’s Onii-chan’s friend,” Makoto says. He looks over his shoulder to flash Sousuke a warm smile.

“Where’s Haru-chan?” Ren asks, lifting his head and pouting.

“Haru-chan is all the way in Germany right now.”

“Whaaaat?” Ren cries, looking like he might cry again.

“Ren, stop being a big baby!” Ran chides. Makoto gives her hand a squeeze.

“Be nice to your brother,” he murmurs. “Ren, don’t cry. Haru’s swimming.”

“Only free?” Ren asks. Makoto laughs.

“That’s right. Haru only swims free,” he recites. Ren finally smiles, giggling as he bounces in Makoto’s arms.

“Haru-chan is swimming free! Haru-chan only swims free!” he chants.

When they get to Makoto’s house, Makoto is exhausted and sweaty from the extra seventy pounds he had to carry all the way up the staircase. He puts Ren down, gently prying him off when he clings.

“Makoto! Welcome home!”

Makoto looks up with a grin as his parents appear in the open door, smiling widely. His mom comes forth first, wrapping her arms around Makoto and pulling him down so she can give him a big, wet smooch on the cheek.

“Hey, Mom,” Makoto greets, letting his mother kiss his face all over.

“Oh, honey, we’ve missed you so much. Have you been eating right? Are you hungry? Dinner is going to be ready soon. I made your favorite!”

“Green curry?” Makoto asks with a smile. His mother nods. “I can’t wait.”

“Welcome home, son,” Makoto’s father says, coming forward to bring Makoto into a quick one-armed hug. “How’s school?”

“It’s great! The results from my exams will be posted online soon,” Makoto says.

“How do you think you did?” Makoto’s mom asks. Makoto gives her a thumbs-up.

“I think I did well. My hand really hurt afterwards, though.”

“And who’s this?”

Makoto turns to where his father is gesturing and sees Sousuke standing just outside the open gate, looking nervous. Makoto beckons him closer. Sousuke hesitates before coming forward.

“Ran and Ren, why don’t you two go inside and wash your hands,” Makoto says. The twins whine, but Makoto nudges them along until they’ve disappeared into the house. He turns back to his parents and gestures to Sousuke. “Mom, Dad, this is Yamazaki Sousuke.”

“Ohh, this is Sousuke-kun!” Makoto’s mother says. She smiles warmly, folding her hands and tilting her head to the side in a very Makoto-esque manner. “Hello! My name is Kimiko. This is my husband, Junpei.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sousuke says. He pauses before bowing, as if it’s an afterthought. Kimiko laughs.

“It’s wonderful to meet you, too! Will he be staying with us while you’re home, honey?” she asks Makoto.

“If it’s fine with you guys, I’d really like him to spend the summer here with me,” Makoto says. “Because, you see--”

“We have a spare futon,” Kimiko interrupts. Junpei laughs and puts a hand on her shoulder.

“I think Makoto is about to tell us something important,” he says gently. Kimiko blinks, looks at Makoto, and slowly smiles.

“Oh. Makoto, could it be…?”

“He’s my boyfriend,” Makoto says. He laughs, unfazed when his mother gasps dramatically and starts clapping.

“That’s _wonderful!_ ” she exclaims, reaching out to take Makoto’s hands. “How long?”

“Um… a little over a year,” Makoto says shyly. Kimiko puts her hands on her hips and puffs up her cheeks, looking offended.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner? We could’ve had him over for dinner,” she scolds. Junpei chuckles and sticks his hand out for Sousuke to shake. Sousuke takes it and Junpei clasps his hand with both of his and shakes vigorously.

“Welcome to the family!” he says. Makoto flushes red and covers his eyes with his hand.

“Dad, that’s a little…”

“Well, come in, come in! Dinner will be ready soon. I’d love to hear all about school,” Kimiko says. She takes Makoto’s arm and starts pulling him towards the house. Makoto looks over his shoulder to shoot Sousuke an apologetic smile.

“Do you like fishing, Sousuke-kun?” Junpei asks, throwing an arm around Sousuke’s shoulders and herding him into the house.

\---

“No fair, Ran got more than me!”

“I got more because I’m older!”

“ _Nuh-uh!_ ”

“Honestly, every time?” Makoto sighs. “Stop fighting. It’s rude.”

He helps dish out another bit of rice for Ren.

“What did we say about fighting when Makoto’s home? Onii-chan shouldn’t have to scold you,” Kimiko says sternly. The twins pout and slump in their chairs as they nibble at their meals. Once they’re quiet, Kimiko turns to Sousuke with a big smile on her face. “How do you like it, Sousuke-kun? Would you like some more? Is it warm enough for you?”

“S’good, Kimiko-san,” Sousuke says with his mouth full. He’s been stuffing his face since dinner started, much to Kimiko’s approval.

“Oh, there’s no need to be so formal with me,” she titters. At the head of the table, Junpei takes a sip of his tea and gives Sousuke a knowing wink.

“This is delicious, Mom,” Makoto chips in.

“Wonderful as always, my dear,” Junpei adds. Kimiko puts her fingers daintily over her lips, a certain glow about her as she basks in the praise.

“Would anyone like seconds?” she asks, standing. Every Tachibana at the table lifts their empty bowls simultaneously as Sousuke scrambles to finish his first helping and mimics them, chewing furiously to catch up. Under the table, Makoto gently taps his foot against Sousuke’s.

“You’re doing great,” Makoto murmurs when his mother is out of earshot.

“I wonder how long he can keep up,” Junpei chuckles. Sousuke swallows hard and huffs a sigh as he puts a hand on his gut. “Oh, you can’t get full yet.”

“More, more!” Ran and Ren cheer, lifting their chopsticks in the air. Sousuke looks momentarily panicked as Kimiko returns with more food and serves everyone seconds.

Three servings later, Makoto giggles as he helps Sousuke into his bedroom and to his bed, where Sousuke collapses on his mattress and groans. Makoto shuts his door softly, closing out the sounds of Ran and Ren cleaning up in the kitchen.

“God. You know, when I watched you eat over half of that pizza last night, I thought you were just really hungry. But now I think you and your whole family are a bunch of vacuums. Does your mom cook like that every night?” Sousuke asks. Makoto goes to the bed and perches on the edge.

“Not every night. Mostly just on special occasions. We usually only have two helpings each.”

Sousuke moans again. Makoto laughs sympathetically and rests his hand on top of Sousuke’s bloated tummy, rubbing gently.

“My mom really liked it that you cleaned your plate on the third serving, though. And I think Dad was really impressed!” Makoto says encouragingly. Sousuke burps and gives Makoto a thumbs-up.

“Great. Damn, even the brats could put away three platefuls. They’re going to be as big as you in high school.”

“They’re growing like weeds. I liked it better when they were small,” Makoto laments. Sousuke cracks open an eye.

“Were they cuter or something?”

“No, they weren’t as heavy,” Makoto says. Sousuke laughs, but it turns into a groan of discomfort.

“Ugggh. I don’t think I can move.”

“Mm,” Makoto hums. He continues to run his hand up and down Sousuke’s stomach, soothing his bellyache. “You’ll get used to it, I promise.”

“I--”

Sousuke is interrupted by a soft knock at the door.

“Come in,” Makoto calls. The door opens and Kimiko enters. Smiling, she quietly shuts the door behind her and faces Makoto.

“How are you two doing? Are you cool enough? Would you like another fan?” she asks. Makoto shakes his head.

“No thanks. We can just use the desk fan.”

“Alright. Well, we have that extra one in the spare room, if you need it,” Kimiko says. “But more importantly, your father and I have been talking about… about you perhaps telling Ran and Ren about you being gay.”

Makoto blinks, surprised. Behind him, Sousuke grunts and groans as he struggles to sit up.

“Really?” Makoto asks. “Are you sure they’re ready for that?”

“Yes. I believe they’re old enough to understand. And now that Sousuke-kun is here, it’d be lying to both them and yourself if you tell them that the two of you are just friends,” Kimiko says. She puts her hands together and frowns at Makoto. “Actually, we… we thought that maybe we were being bad parents for not wanting you to tell the twins sooner. And we want you to know that we love you so, so, so much. And above anything else, we want you to feel proud of who you are. And we want you to be happy.”

Kimiko stops and downcasts her eyes.

“So I think it’s important that you tell the twins,” she says, the smile returning to her face. “And you won’t have anything to hide in this house.”

“ _Mom_ ,” Makoto chokes. He stands and practically runs to his mother to hug her tight. “Thank you so much.”

“Of course. Your father and I are so happy you found someone,” Kimiko says. “And I think the twins will be happy, too!”

“I think they will, too. Thank you. And I never thought you guys were bad parents. I understood why you wanted me to hide it a little longer,” Makoto assures Kimiko, who squeezes him.

“I’m happy to hear that,” she says. Pulling away from Makoto, she reaches up to caress his cheek. “We love you so much.”

“Love you too,” Makoto says. Kimiko tugs Makoto down to kiss his forehead.

“We’ll be in the living room. If Ran and Ren question it too much, we’ll step in and help them understand,” Kimiko says. Makoto nods and lets his mother go, smiling after her.

“Huh.”

Makoto faces Sousuke when he speaks. He’s laying back with his hands behind his head, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling.

“What is it?” Makoto asks. Sousuke glances over at him and shrugs.

“Dunno. Your family just seems real close, is all,” he says. He returns his gaze to the ceiling, brows knitting together. “…Reminds me of when I was a little kid, spending Christmas with Rin and Gou.”

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” Makoto asks. He goes to the bed and stretches out beside Sousuke, propping his head up on his hand. Sousuke shakes his head.

“Nah. It’s just new. And it’s interesting seeing you interacting with kids. I know that’s the age group you want to work with, but I’ve never seen you in action. They didn’t even seem to faze you. Rin and Gou used to fight all the time when they were younger, so I thought you’d be annoyed by those two.”

“I do get annoyed sometimes,” Makoto admits. “But they’re just kids. I can’t get mad at them when they do stuff like climb on me. It just means they missed me a ton.”

“Sounds like you really understand children.”

“Well, I was one once.”

Sousuke clicks his tongue and Makoto laughs at him. Leaning in, he pecks Sousuke’s nose.

“You want to go see the twins? They probably want to play,” Makoto offers. Sousuke grunts and nods.

“I think I can move now. Give me a second.”

Makoto giggles and stands. He carefully takes off his precious watch with the cat engraved on the face and sets it on his desk.

“I’d take off your necklace,” Makoto suggests. “If they get rough-housey, I don’t want it breaking.”

“Take it off for me?” Sousuke asks, smirking as he sits on the edge of the bed and waits. Makoto huffs a sigh but goes to him anyway to unhook his necklace. As he does, Sousuke puts his hands on his hips and sways from side to side.

“Don’t try anything funny in front of the twins,” Makoto warns. Sousuke grins.

“Oh, you mean I can’t grab your ass?”

“Not unless you want to lose an arm,” Makoto purrs.

“Mm. Kitty’s got claws,” Sousuke teases.

“And whose fault is that?”

“Are you implying that your smart mouth is somehow my fault?”

“You’re rubbing off on me,” Makoto whispers, his face a hair’s width away from Sousuke’s. He pecks at his lips, letting out a muffled giggle as Sousuke wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him down into bed.

“I think you’ve always had a little snarky side,” Sousuke mutters between kisses. “You’re a little shit and you know it.”

“And you’re a big soft teddy bear.”

“I am _not_.”

Sousuke sticks up his middle finger and presses it right up against Makoto’s nose. Laughing, Makoto grabs his wrist and chomps down on Sousuke’s finger. Hissing, Sousuke returns the favor by biting his nose and making him squeal.

The door abruptly slams open. Both Sousuke and Makoto nearly jump out of their skin as Ran and Ren come barreling in.

“No fair!” Ren cries. “I want to play with Onii-chan, too!”

“Hey, wait for _me!_ ” Ran exclaims, running with Ren to the bed and scrambling onto it. Sousuke tenses as both kids climb all over him and Makoto.

“Hey, hey!” Makoto calls. “Hey, pause!”

Ran and Ren freeze as Makoto quickly puts Sousuke’s necklace on the bedside table, not wanting it to get wrecked by the kids.

“Okay, play!” Makoto says. He grabs the first small body he can get his hands on and starts tickling. Ran shrieks and kicks, nearly nailing Sousuke in the chin with one of her flailing feet.

“Oi!” Sousuke barks, trying to untangle himself from the mess of writhing limbs on the bed. However, Ren jumps on his back and clings to his hair. “ _Ow!_ ”

“Ren, no hair pulling,” Makoto manages between laughs as he’s relentlessly tickled by his little sister.

“Sou-nii!” Ren chimes, hanging off of Sousuke’s neck and snuggling against him. Sousuke blinks.

“Sou-nii?” he asks. However, just as he says it, Ran finds a particularly ticklish spot under Makoto’s arm and makes him yelp and burst into hysterical laughter.

“S-S-S- _Stop!_ ” he wails. All at once, Ran is lifted off of him. Sousuke has her in his hands, pulling her up against his chest and restraining her wrists.

“Jeez,” Sousuke sighs. Makoto sits up and pants harshly as he wipes the tears of laughter from his eyes. Sniffing, he crosses his legs and faces the twins.

“Hey, I have something important I want to say to you two,” Makoto says. He can’t help but grin at the sight of Sousuke holding Ran in his lap and Ren clinging to his arm.

“What is it?” Ran asks, outstretching her leg and putting her bare foot on Makoto’s leg. Makoto catches her ankle and plays with her toes.

“Remember when I said that Sousuke is a friend?” he asks. Ran and Ren both nod. “Well, that’s only kinda true. Sousuke’s more than a friend.”

“Is he a new big brother?” Ren asks. Ran lets out a big, dramatic sigh.

“Nooo, Onii-chan means that he’s, like, a bestest best _best_ friend forever.”

“No, Sousuke is even more than that,” Makoto says gently. Ran’s mouth drops open.

“More than Haru-chan?!”

“Is Haru-chan being replaced?!” Ren cries. Makoto laughs and shakes his head.

“No, not at all. Haru-chan is still my best friend,” he says. “But Sousuke is my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” Ren echoes. Ran slaps her hands over her cheeks, mouth wide open.

“But you’re both boys!” she says.

“Wait, does that mean Onii-chan is married?” Ren asks. He pouts. “That’s not fair.”

“Yes, we’re both boys. We’re not married. We just love each other,” Makoto explains. Ran tilts her head.

“Like Mom and Dad?” she asks. Makoto nods.

“Mhm. Just like Mom and Dad.”

“Okay, but which one is the mommy when you play house?” Ren asks. He pats Sousuke’s cheek. “Is it Sou-nii?”

“I--” Makoto begins.

“That’s right, I’m the mommy,” Sousuke speaks up, turning his head sharply and pretending to bite Ren’s hand. Ren giggles and snatches his hand away.

“No, _I_ get to be Mommy,” Ran whines. “Sou-nii has to be the dog.”

“Do I look like a mutt to you?” Sousuke growls, giving Ran a gentle noogie that has her squealing and flailing.

“Ran, Ren. This is real life house,” Makoto explains. “Me and Sousuke aren’t just playing. We really love each other.”

“Prove it! You have to kiss!” Ran demands. “That’s what people who love each other do. It’s the law.”

“Is Onii-chan going to go to jail if he doesn’t kiss Sou-nii?” Ren asks, getting sniffly again.

“No,” Makoto sighs. “Ran, don’t tell lies to your brother. Me and Sousuke kiss only in private.”

“Awww,” Ran and Ren whine. Sousuke joins in with a cheeky grin, “Aww.”

“Don’t encourage them,” Makoto huffs. Sousuke smirks smugly.

“If they want to see us kiss, why not let them see?” he asks. Makoto’s face reddens and he crosses his arms tightly.

“Th-That’s…” he stammers. Ran and Ren stare at him.

“He kinda looks more like a mommy now,” Ran whispers. Sousuke bursts into laughter as Makoto shoots a scandalized look at Ran.

“C’mere, Makoto,” Sousuke says. The sound of Sousuke’s low voice saying his name sends a shiver up Makoto’s spine. “Come here and kiss me.”

“Jeez,” Makoto groans. He shifts and leans forward. Sousuke closes his eyes, a small smile on his lips as he waits patiently. Makoto expects to just give him a little peck, but Sousuke captures his bottom lip and gives him a real kiss. Out of habit, Makoto nearly melts into it, but Ran’s voice drags him out of it.

“ _Whooooa_ ,” she whispers, peeking through her fingers. “That was a really grown up kiss.”

“I wanna kiss Onii-chan, too,” Ren whines. He hops into Makoto’s arm and gives him a big kiss on the cheek. “Your cheeks are really warm!”

“I wanna feel!” Ran cries. She gets up and presses a kiss to Makoto’s other cheek. Laughing, Makoto holds both children in his arms, snuggling them. As he does, he happens to glance at Sousuke’s face. There’s something there, something warm and fond, which makes Makoto’s heart skip a beat. But as soon as it’s there, it’s gone again.

“Heh. I’m jealous. Move over, brats. I’m going to kiss him again.”

“No fair, no fair!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friend [Diana.](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com)
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	33. Chapter 33

“I can’t believe you let them paint our nails.”

Makoto looks up from his laptop and smiles as he watches Sousuke wiggle his fingers in front of his eyes. Ran had painted his nails a bright, sparkly teal color. Ren had painted Makoto’s nails red. Even though it’s a little messy, and some of the nail polish has been accidentally rubbed off, Makoto doesn’t plan on removing it.

“Do you hate it? I have some nail polish remover hidden in here somewhere,” Makoto offers, moving to get off the bed. Sousuke stops him with a gentle smack on the thigh.

“Nah. Don’t bother. The kids would be upset, wouldn’t they?”

Makoto smiles, shuts his laptop, and sets it aside. He turns off the desk lamp on his bedside table, casting the room into darkness. As he lies down in bed, Sousuke lifts the blanket and sighs as Makoto presses up close to him.

“We have the whole weekend to ourselves. Izumi-san said she wants us to come in on Monday. So that gives us tomorrow, Saturday, and Sunday to do whatever we want,” Makoto says. “What do you want to do?”

“Swimming,” Sousuke answers quickly. “I want to go to the beach.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Makoto chirps, snuggling into Sousuke’s chest. “I also want to go camping, but I want to save that for Obon. Izumi-san says we can have those days off.”

“Am I going to be able to work right away? Even though it’s on such short notice?”

“You should be fine. Izumi-san sounded like she expects both of us to show up in the text message she sent me,” Makoto says. “I told her that you’re a hard worker.”

“You don’t know that. Maybe I’m a lazy ass.”

“Impossible,” Makoto laughs. He cranes his neck to kiss Sousuke in the darkness, but ends up kissing his chin. Sousuke hooks his hand on Makoto’s neck and guides him into a proper kiss.

“Mmm,” Sousuke groans, pulling Makoto closer and flicking the tip of his tongue against his bottom lip. Surprised by Sousuke’s sudden hunger, Makoto gasps. Sousuke swallows it and uses the opportunity to slide his tongue into Makoto’s mouth. He pushes himself up so he’s on top, and pulls the covers over their heads to trap the heat inside.

“Mmn, _Sousuke_ ,” Makoto whimpers against his lips. Sousuke pulls his tongue into his mouth and sucks on it with an obscenely wet sound. Moaning, Makoto lets Sousuke do whatever he wants. A lot of the things he’s doing right now would probably be gross or absurd at any other time, especially since he’s sucking Makoto’s tongue the same way someone would suck a dick, but right now it’s hot. Makoto gives up trying to hold onto Sousuke’s shoulders and instead lets his arms fall uselessly to the mattress.

He would give anything to have him right now.

“P-Please tell me it’s up,” Makoto whispers when Sousuke finally releases him. His eyes water as he trembles with arousal. “I _need_ it.”

He hears Sousuke gulp and fumble around above him. As he does, Makoto reaches down and traces his hand along his body all the way down to his crotch, where he runs his hand over his boxers. His cock is very faintly warm and just a little firm, but not hard.

“I’m sorry,” Sousuke apologizes softly. “I don’t think much will have changed since this morning. Do you want me to help with yours?”

“N-No,” Makoto breathes. “I don’t want to cum again until you do.”

“I can feel you on my leg,” Sousuke grunts. “There’s no way you’re going to be able to hold out. Let me help.”

“Mmm,” Makoto moans. When Sousuke starts reaching into his pajama shorts, he quickly grabs his wrist to stop him. “ _No_.”

“I don’t want to leave you hanging like this,” Sousuke says. Makoto can practically see the skeptical-slash-concerned look on his face in the darkness. “I’ll suck it, if you want me to.”

“I want to hold it,” Makoto insists. Sousuke lets out a sigh and flops down onto his side beside Makoto, draping an arm over his waist. Thinking of exclusively non-sexy things, Makoto tries to will the erection away.

“You really are a masochist,” Sousuke murmurs.

“I’m not,” Makoto denies, but he’s starting to wonder if he’s being completely honest with himself. He chews his bottom lip and shifts with discomfort, his mind wandering to the lube he has hidden in his backpack.

“Let me try something,” Sousuke says. Makoto squeezes his eyes shut as the desk light is turned back on. Sousuke curses, “Fuck. Too bright. Hold on.”

Makoto hears the shuffling of clothing before the light dims considerably. When he opens his eyes, he sees a t-shirt draped over the lamp. Sousuke, now shirtless, grins proudly.

“Mood lighting,” he says. Makoto laughs, puts his hand on his forehead, and shakes his head.

“Well, it’s certainly not as bright anymore,” he teases. Sousuke grabs his nose and squeezes.

“Shut your mouth.”

“What did you want to try?” Makoto asks. Sousuke purses his lips at him.

“Well, I _wanted_ to look at you being all sexy, but you completely pissed on the mood.”

“Me? You’re the one who ruined the mood,” Makoto chides. Sousuke leans down to kiss his lips and cheeks, nuzzling his way closer to his ear and breathing into it. Makoto jolts slightly at the warm breath fanning over his ear, biting down on his bottom lip. “C-C’mon, I said I didn’t want t-to… until you…”

“Do you really think you can last?” Sousuke murmurs. “I don’t think you can.”

“I can,” Makoto whispers, voice shaking. “St-Stop--”

“Do you really want me to stop? You’re pulling me closer,” Sousuke purrs. Makoto realizes that his fingers are tangled in Sousuke’s hair, holding his head tightly against him. When Makoto loosens his hold, Sousuke lifts his head, smirking. “I’ll stop if you really want me to. But it doesn’t look like you want to.”

“I want…” Makoto trails off. He looks down at himself and Sousuke pulls the covers off his lower body, revealing the tent in his shorts. Groaning, he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts and tugs them down. His briefs are holding his cock way too snugly, to the point that every single little twitch or throb can be seen.

“What do you want?” Sousuke asks softly. Makoto whimpers and wiggles his hips helplessly.

“I-I’ll take care of it myself,” Makoto breathes. He starts pulling down his briefs, gasping when his cock pops out and bounces heavily on his stomach.

“God damn it. You get turned on so easily,” Sousuke huffs. Makoto shakes his head.

“Only with y-you,” he whispers. Reaching down to grasp himself, he strokes up and down. His eyes flutter shut as he grips the pillow beneath his head with his free hand. “Mmm…”

Just as he’s getting into it, there’s a knock at the door. The doorknob starts to twist and Makoto gasps sharply as he releases himself. Sousuke quickly yanks the covers up, making Makoto hiss as the blanket brushes up against the head of his cock. He rolls onto his side as fast as he can just as the door opens.

“Onii-chan,” Ran mumbles when she comes into the room. She rubs her eyes. “Ren had a bad dream and he’s crying for you again.”

Makoto sighs and sits up.

“Alright, Ran. Go back to bed and tell Ren I’ll be there in a minute, okay?” Makoto says. Ran nods sleepily and shuffles out of the room, leaving the door wide open.

“…Are you kidding me?” Sousuke asks as Makoto pulls his briefs up and stands from the bed. He winces as he tucks his flagging erection into his underwear. Luckily for him, Ran’s surprise visit had him rapidly deflating, and by the time he’s got his pajama shorts back on, it’s nearly gone. Sousuke scowls at him. “How old is he, anyway?”

“They’re both ten,” Makoto says, making sure his clothes are straightened and slapping his cheeks to get rid of the lustful expression. “But Ren has always been a little… mentally younger than Ran. He didn’t adjust very well when I left the house. But it’s okay. We want to be patient with him.”

Sousuke blinks and Makoto presses a quick kiss to his cheek before exiting the bedroom and going down the hall to the twins’ bedroom, where Ran is lying in her bed with her hands over her ears as Ren sobs into his pillow.

“Onii-chaaan,” he cries. Makoto steps over the toys scattered all over the floor and goes to Ren’s bed. The moment he’s close enough, Ren clings to him and tries to crawl up his torso. Makoto wraps his arms around him and hoists him out of bed. He grabs Ren’s teddy bear for good measure and maneuvers his way out of the kids’ bedroom.

“Go back to sleep, Ran,” Makoto murmurs as he leaves and shuts the door gently behind him. He returns to his bedroom, where Sousuke is sitting on the edge of the bed. His shirt is back on, but he put one of Makoto’s shirts over the lamp instead. Makoto laughs softly, “Sorry about this. It always happens when I’ve been gone for a long time.”

“Ah,” Sousuke says, watching as Makoto consoles Ren. Makoto paces back and forth for a few minutes before sitting down on the bed beside Sousuke.

“I’m still here,” Makoto murmurs. “I’m going to be here when you wake up, too.”

Ren sniffles and wipes his nose on Makoto’s shoulder, making him grimace. He doesn’t push Ren off, however, and just continues to snuggle him and rock him.

“Will this happen a lot during the summer?” Sousuke asks. Makoto flashes him a look.

“Sousuke, come on. I can’t just leave him alone,” he says. Sousuke lifts his hands in surrender.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I meant, does this happen a lot when you’re home? Like specifically when you’re home?” he asks. Makoto sighs.

“It happens quite a bit. He’s really afraid of me leaving without saying goodbye,” he explains. “And he has bad dreams about it.”

“I see,” Sousuke says. “What helps?”

“Well… sometimes I read him a story, sometimes I hum, sometimes we play until he falls back asleep,” Makoto says. “But I think just talking out loud and letting him hear my voice helps him the most.”

He pets Ren’s head. He has stopped crying and has his head leaned up on Makoto’s shoulder, giving the occasional whimper.

“I think it’s mostly a voice thing. He likes to hear voices, and he’s most comfortable when people are talking around him. But Ran can’t sleep with too much noise, so it’s kinda hard to find a balance for their sleeping. We tried giving Ran my bedroom while I’m gone, but Ren gets scared when he’s alone. We tried recording my voice telling a story, but Ran would stay up late listening. She only falls asleep to singing, which… well, I mean, I’m not really good at singing lullabies.”

“Huh,” Sousuke says. He takes a breath like he’s going to say something, but closes his mouth again and furrows his brow.

“What’s wrong?” Makoto asks. Sousuke shakes his head.

“Nothin’. Want me to hold him?”

“Hm? Sure. Hold on,” Makoto says. He gently pries Ren off of him and is met with whimpers and protests, but the moment he’s in Sousuke’s lap, he locks his arms around his neck and his legs around his waist. Sousuke looks perplexed for a moment, but wraps his arms around the child anyway, rubbing his back.

“I’ve heard you sing softly before. I think you could sing a lullaby if you really wanted to,” Sousuke points out. Makoto laughs nervously.

“I really can’t sing softly for a long time. It’s hard to sing high notes for me, so lullabies are kinda out of the question. It needs to be gentle enough for both of them to sleep peacefully.”

“Fickle brats,” Sousuke mutters. Makoto laughs.

“Ren, are you feeling better?” he asks, reaching out to touch Ren’s back. All he gets in response is silence.

“He fell asleep. He’s drooling on me,” Sousuke says, making a face. Makoto smiles.

“He must like your voice, too,” he says. Sousuke blinks and frowns down at Ren.

“…Alright, then. Uh… how do I get him off?”

“Well…” Makoto trails off. He smiles apologetically. “He usually sleeps with me after something like this.”

“…Jeez,” Sousuke groans. “Fine.”

Makoto helps Sousuke untangle Ren from his body and lays the boy down in the center of the bed. Makoto and Sousuke lie down on either side of him and settle into the covers. Once everyone is comfortable, Makoto reaches out to shut off the desk light.

“Sorry we couldn’t continue what we started earlier,” Makoto whispers. He feels Sousuke’s fingers comb through his hair.

“Mm. Another time.”

“Yeah,” Makoto murmurs. He tucks one arm under his pillow and drapes the other over Ren. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

\---

The next day, it’s almost too hot to focus on breathing, so Ran and Ren end up begging to come along on the beach trip. Sousuke, who had obviously been looking forward to spending some alone time with Makoto, sulks until it feels like Makoto is babysitting _three_ children.

“ _Oi_ , if you don’t stop yankin’ my hair, I’ll throw you into the ocean,” Sousuke growls. Ran, who is sitting up on Sousuke’s shoulders and clinging to him by the hair, giggles and kicks out her feet.

“Beach!” she squeals, pointing straight ahead. “Giddy up!”

“Do you need help, Ren?” Makoto asks, looking down at Ren, who is carrying a plastic box of beach toys.

“I can carry it!” he exclaims. The moment they get to the boardwalk leading down to the beach, Ren bolts off towards the water. Ran somehow manages to monkey her way down Sousuke’s body and sprints off after her brother.

“Hey, wait!” Makoto calls. Sousuke breaks into a run, making Ran and Ren shriek with delight as he chases them.

“I got them!” Sousuke yells back. Sighing, Makoto adjusts his grip on the umbrellas under his arm and the beach bag in his hand before jogging to catch up to Sousuke and the twins. Sousuke is able to catch Ren and Ran, swooping up behind them and sweeping them up into his arms. They scream as he spins them around. Makoto watches, his worried expression becoming an easy grin. Sousuke might not be used to interacting with kids, but he’s sure good at it.

“Everyone needs sunscreen before they get in the water,” Makoto says when everyone has calmed down. Ran and Ren whine, but Makoto sets the beach bag down and pulls out sunscreen with a no-nonsense expression. “C’mon, you two. No exceptions. Mom said she’ll be upset if you come back with sunburns.”

Sousuke releases Ran and Ren, letting them trudge to Makoto. They hold their arms out as he spreads sunscreen all over their bare skin.

“I’ll set up umbrellas,” Sousuke offers. Makoto smiles at him and makes sure Ren and Ran are absolutely covered before blowing up their water wings and giving them both inner-tubes.

“Let that sunscreen dry before you get in the water,” Makoto instructs. “Don’t take your water wings off. Also, you can’t go past where you can touch the bottom unless one of us is with you.”

“Okay, Onii-chan!” Ran and Ren chime. Once the sunscreen is dry, Makoto releases them, watching as they sprint to the ocean and fall face first into the water.

“How does anyone live with kids?” Sousuke grunts. He sets up a few beach towels and lounges in the shade of the umbrellas he set up. Makoto joins him and pulls out a bottle of sunscreen with a lower SPF than the kids’. Shrugging, Makoto opens it and pours a liberal amount into his palm.

“You get used to it, I guess. The twins were actually pretty quiet as babies. Maybe that’s why I’m so patient with them,” Makoto laughs. He feels Sousuke’s eyes on him as he spreads sunscreen across his bare chest.

“Your jammers are gonna give you one _hell_ of a tanline,” Sousuke snarks. Makoto blushes and shrugs.

“Well… at least I won’t have sunburn. And you’re wearing your legskins, too!”

“You’ll definitely get burned unless someone gets your back. Can I do that for you at least, or is it too much to do around the kids?” Sousuke asks sarcastically. Makoto flashes him a look and tosses the sunscreen at him. Sousuke fumbles it and swears when it plops into the sand.

“Yes, that’s fine. I’m sorry they had to come with us. I know you wanted to be alone with me this weekend, but I can’t just say no to those two,” Makoto explains. Sousuke grunts and squirts Makoto’s back with sunscreen without warning, making him arch his body and yelp. “Cold!”

“Mm,” Sousuke hums. He spreads the sunscreen all over Makoto’s back, kneading the thick muscles with his fingers. Makoto can feel his breath on his neck and knows that he’s entirely too close, but Ran and Ren are busy splashing each other, so it should be fine…

“I wanted to be alone with you, too,” Makoto admits. “When we go camping, I promise we’ll be all alone.”

“I must say, though, this is pretty relaxing. Being in Iwatobi, I mean. I can’t remember the last time I went a full day without hearing people honking their horns at each other, or the sirens of a fire truck or something,” Sousuke says. “You’re covered. Can you get my back, too?”

“Yeah. So you’re glad you came to Iwatobi?”

Sousuke nods, turning his back to Makoto and letting him rub sunscreen into his back. His skin is warm to the touch and the solidity of his body feels nice under Makoto’s palms. Biting his lip, he resists the urge to kiss Sousuke right on the dip of his neck. He really wants to touch him more, especially after being left hanging last night, but he forces himself to pull his hands back.

“Want to go play with the twins?” Makoto asks. Sousuke huffs a sigh, nods, and crawls out from under the umbrella.

“Might as well, or they’ll be little snots to us for the rest of the day,” he grumbles. Makoto gets up to stand beside him, laughing at the expression on Sousuke’s face. Despite what he says, it looks like he doesn’t really mind playing with the kids.

“It’ll be fun, I promise,” Makoto says. He takes Sousuke’s hand and walks backwards, tugging him towards the shore. Sousuke cocks an eyebrow and allows himself to be pulled along.

“Are you okay with…?” Sousuke trails off, nodding at the ocean.

“It’s okay when I’m not alone. And in the daylight. And nice weather. And when it’s super, super hot out. I’m not _completely_ terrified of the ocean. It depends on the situation,” Makoto insists. “C’mon.”

“Onii-chan! Sou-nii!” the twins shriek in unison as Makoto pulls Sousuke into the water. A wave nearly makes Makoto lose balance, but Sousuke is quick to pull him close and steady him.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be walking backwards into a giant body of water,” Sousuke deadpans. Makoto giggles and flashes Sousuke a grin.

“Don’t worry, I know you’ll catch me if I fall,” he chirps. A bit of pink appears under Sousuke’s eyes and he swears.

“Don’t say cute shit all nonchalantly like that.”

“Did you come into the water to play with us?!” Ran asks, suddenly appearing beside Makoto’s hip. She clings to him, unconsciously hooking her fingers in his jammers.

“Hey, hey,” Makoto says, prying her hand off. “Of course we came to play with you.”

“Yay!” Ran shrieks, bouncing. Ren paddles closer, nearly flipping upside down with how far he’s leaning in his inner-tube. However, Sousuke catches him and grunts as he hoists him up and over his head. He sets Ren squarely on his shoulders, holding the boy’s calves as he wades into deeper water. Ran lets out an indignant sound and lifts her arms up to Makoto, “No fair, no fair! I want a ride, too!”

Makoto lifts Ran onto his shoulders and follows Sousuke into deeper water. Once they’re up to their ribcages, Ran and Ren start kicking water at each other, trying to get the other to fall off. Makoto laughs, helping Ran by splashing at Sousuke and riling him up until Sousuke grabs Makoto’s wrists and grapples with him.

It doesn’t take long before all four of them are laughing, trying to get each other to fall over. Makoto lets his guard down for just a moment when he happens to catch a glimpse of Sousuke’s face.

A little over a year ago, Sousuke didn’t have much to smile about. But here he stands, the sunlight glinting off his teeth and his nose scrunched up as great, booming laughter bursts out of him. These pure, genuine smiles of his are becoming more and more frequent. Makoto is so distracted by the sight that he doesn’t have time to defend himself before Sousuke shoves him back. He can’t catch himself before he falls. He releases Ran as he goes down, and her floatation gear keeps her from sinking.

Makoto plunges into the water and lets himself sink down into the dark silence, unmoving. Above him, there’s a splash, and a moment later he feels strong arms wrapping around his waist and yanking him up. As Makoto resurfaces, he gasps and flips his wet hair back. Grinning, he wraps his legs around Sousuke’s waist and tangles his fingers into his hair.

“Jeez, I thought I hurt you and you passed out or something!” Sousuke grumps. Ran and Ren hover around Makoto and Sousuke, curious and a little concerned.

“Sorry, I was just enjoying the water,” Makoto says, reaching up to push his bangs back. Sousuke furrows his brows, but Makoto just smiles down at him and cups his face in both of his hands. “I _really_ love you.”

“ _Bleeeech!_ ” Ran gags. Ren slaps his hands over his eyes as he blushes.

“Honestly,” Sousuke sighs. Red blooms from his nose and spreads across his cheeks. “I love you, too.”

“I love Onii-chan, too!” Ran says, grabbing at Sousuke and managing to knee him in the ribs as she climbs up his side.

“Me too, me too!” Ren cries out, trying to follow his sister. Sousuke stares at Makoto with a straight face as Ran grabs at his face and hair.

“I hope you have a thing for bald men,” Sousuke grumbles as Ran nearly pulls out a fistful of his hair. Makoto laughs.

“Doesn’t matter, so long as it’s you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friend [Diana.](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com)
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	34. Chapter 34

The weekend passes sinfully fast. Having spent the entire weekend playing with the twins, Sousuke and Makoto haven’t had much more than one hour to themselves. This leaves them both itching for each other more than usual. The alone time they do have (usually only when Ren and Ran are sleeping) is spent making out and grinding against each other until Makoto can’t go another moment without cumming his pants.

Sousuke spends a lot of time online, trying to find a way to help his erection problem. They try chocolate, strawberries, and damiana tea, to no avail. Makoto suggests that maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to try a penis pump and ends up getting the cold shoulder from Sousuke for an hour. By the following week, both of them are absolutely fed up with the situation. Their hunger for each other grows until Makoto finds himself absentmindedly sucking his chopsticks during dinner. Sousuke can’t stop staring at anything even remotely phallic-shaped.

On the eve before the first day of the Obon festival, Makoto hasn’t cum in two weeks and he is absolutely starved for sex.

“Makoto, seriously, let me help you,” Sousuke murmurs. He’s sitting cross-legged on the bed with Makoto’s head in his lap. Makoto started feeling feverish after his bath, and now the hot, humid night air is nearly sending him into hysterics. He’s breathing heavily as he squirms and grips the sheets. It shouldn’t be possible to be this turned on by nothing more than just being in Sousuke’s _vicinity_ , but here he is. 

“It’s hot,” Makoto pants. Sousuke reaches down and grabs his hands, tangling their fingers together and pinning them to the mattress.

“Y-Yeah,” Sousuke stammers. Makoto looks down at the bulge in his briefs, eyes watery and his pupils blown with lust.

“I need it,” Makoto mewls. He feels Sousuke’s thigh muscles tense on either side of his head.

“It’s reacting a little bit to this,” Sousuke mutters. “It’s definitely harder than it was a couple weeks ago. But still not enough to actually…”

“I don’t think I can make myself look any more desperate,” Makoto breathes, still panting as he rocks his hips. “Can you think of anything else I can do?”

“You’re fucking hot. If my dick wasn’t being stupid, I would’ve jizzed myself fifteen minutes ago,” Sousuke huffs. “I definitely like this.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Makoto sighs, letting his hips drop to the bed and pursing his lips. He looks off into the darkness, pouting.

“You’re frustrated,” Sousuke observes.

“Obviously,” Makoto mumbles. Sousuke helps him sit up and Makoto grabs at his crotch. He’s positively sore with all of the dissatisfaction of the past couple weeks. Honestly, he’s sore with this entire year of waiting, waiting, waiting, _yearning_ —

“Makoto.”

Sousuke’s voice brings Makoto out of his thoughts. Turning to him, Makoto recognizes the anxiety on his face. His annoyed expression immediately dissipates and he takes a deep breath. Communication.

“I’m sorry. I’m frustrated, yes, but not with you. I’m frustrated with this whole situation. I’m frustrated _for_ you!” Makoto explains. “I know you can’t help it.”

“I want to do this more than anything,” Sousuke presses. “I want this so bad, it’s all I can think about.”

“I know,” Makoto soothes, putting a hand on Sousuke’s thigh. “We’ll just have to keep being patient.”

“Ugh… are you sure you don’t want help?”

“I don’t want to be the only one feeling good,” Makoto says, standing from the bed and wincing as his cock twitches. “I’m going to cool down in the bathroom.”

“…Okay.”

Makoto leaves the bedroom, a deep frown on his face as he shuffles to the bathroom and turns on the cold water in the sink. He splashes his face and neck, then looks up at himself in the mirror.

He looks like a mess. His hair is disheveled, his skin is flushed, and his eyes are gleaming. Touching his lips, Makoto sighs. It’s getting to the point that he can’t even kiss Sousuke for more than a few moments before getting turned on. It’s a thirst he absolutely cannot quench without Sousuke.

“ _God_ ,” Makoto groans. He splashes more water in his face, dries off, and returns to his bedroom. He finds Sousuke on his laptop again, reading. Makoto goes to the bed and crawls up beside his boyfriend, leaning his head on him to read over his shoulder. The screen is just a wall of text.

“Everyone is saying to try different shit that makes no sense. This one says to just put kelp up my ass. Just shove it up there,” Sousuke deadpans. Makoto laughs and nuzzles Sousuke’s shoulder. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t think I want kelp in my ass.”

“Who knows? It might be the one thing that works,” Makoto teases. Sousuke turns his head and blows on Makoto’s hair.

“Shut up,” Sousuke huffs. “I’m gonna piss.”

He moves to stand up, but Makoto grabs his wrist.

“Wait. Hold on,” he says. “Okay, this might sound like a bit of a stretch, but… do you know what causes morning wood?”

“…Of course. We actually learned about that in my human physiology class. Your bladder fills up overnight and presses against your— _oh_. Oh. I know where you’re going.”

“Let’s try that,” Makoto says quickly. Sousuke grimaces.

“I better not wet the bed,” he huffs. Makoto grins.

“Just try,” Makoto pleads. “Please?”

“Only because you’re a hot mess,” Sousuke says. He grabs Makoto’s head and pulls him in for a quick, searing kiss. Makoto pushes away from him, not wanting to get horny again. Together, they get under the covers. Sousuke spoons Makoto, pulling his hips flush up against him. That action itself nearly turns him on again, but he takes a deep breath and turns out the light.

“Cross your fingers,” Makoto whispers. Sousuke scoffs.

“At this point, I’m praying for a miracle.”

\---

Makoto’s dreams are plagued with dirty images of Sousuke. Every time it gets too intense, Makoto drags himself out of sleep and ends it. Even in his sleep, he doesn’t want to cum. Sousuke has been suffering too long for Makoto to let himself go so easily.

That doesn’t make it any less difficult to force himself away from the tempting dreams.

He’s in the middle of a particularly pleasant dream about Sousuke’s ass when he’s dragged out of it by a persistent smacking against his hip. Whining, Makoto opens his eyes and looks blearily out into his semi-lit room. _What time is it?_

The alarm clock on his desk reads _7:35AM._ Irritated, Makoto throws his arm back and smacks Sousuke.

“I’m still sleeping,” Makoto slurs, shutting his eyes again.

“Well stop sleeping, I’ve got a boner,” comes the husky voice from behind him. Makoto’s eyes snap wide open as he feels a hand grip his hip. Sousuke grinds up against his ass. He’s hard. He’s actually hard, he’s _throbbing_ —

“Oh my _god_ ,” Makoto hisses. He whips the blankets off and rolls out of bed, his leg caught in the sheets as he scrambles for his backpack. He digs around for his lube before jumping back into bed and attacking Sousuke, whose breathing is somewhat labored as he rocks his hips.

“We don’t have condoms,” Sousuke grunts, stripping off his shirt and allowing himself to be pushed onto his back. Makoto grabs his basketball shorts and yanks them off, making Sousuke gasp and squirm. “Whoa! Makoto--”

“Quiet,” Makoto hushes. He hooks his fingers in Sousuke’s boxers and rips them off, leaving him naked. When Sousuke tries to cover himself, Makoto grabs his wrists and slams them onto the bed.

“Holy shit,” Sousuke hisses. Breathing shallowly, he looks up at Makoto through his eyelashes with a dark, lustful gaze. “I said we don’t have condoms.”

“I don’t care,” Makoto moans. He strips his lower body and straddles Sousuke’s thighs while he pours lubricant onto his fingers. It’s the first time he’s smelled it; it’s a bit too sweet, but he really couldn’t care less. He brings his hand back to his ass and slides a finger between his cheeks.

He… doesn’t really know how to do this.

“You’ve never had anything up your ass before, have you?” Sousuke asks. Makoto huffs.

“And you have?”

“I’ve… experimented,” Sousuke says vaguely. He averts his eyes. “I can do it for you, if you want.”

“Just tell me what to do. Hurry, Sousuke, _please_ ,” Makoto pants. Sousuke licks his lips.

“Uh… okay, just kinda trace around the hole first. Get it as slippery as you can,” Sousuke instructs. Makoto nods and does what he’s told, squeezing his eyes shut at the unfamiliar feeling. Sousuke continues, “Okay, and take it slow. It feels really fucking weird at first but just kinda… move your finger inside and poke around a little.”

“Poke around,” Makoto echoes breathlessly. He flinches as he sticks his finger inside. With soft grunts, he moves his finger. It doesn’t hurt as much as it just feels strange, like Sousuke said. Below him, Sousuke slowly strokes himself to maintain his erection, watching Makoto closely.

“Do you feel anything?”

“Th-This is weird,” Makoto manages. He drops his head down and presses in deeper. He knows about the prostate, he has read about it, Sato has mentioned it to him; he knows it’s in here somewhere. In any other situation, this would be hilarious, but right now the only thing Makoto can think of is getting Sousuke inside of him as soon as possible. Frustrated, he gives a hard curl of his finger and his eyes fly open at the sudden sensation. “ _Ah!_ ”

“Find it?” Sousuke asks. “Yeah, keep hitting that thing, it’s like a g-spot. Except without the vaginas.”

“Either say something sexy or don’t talk at all,” Makoto snaps, grinding his finger against his prostate and throwing his head back in pleasure. Sousuke shuts his mouth and just watches, giving the occasional groan or buck of his hips.

“Put more fingers in,” Sousuke murmurs. Makoto nods and pushes a second finger inside. It’s not really that painful, given how slippery everything is, but there is a very faint burn.

“This is taking too long,” Makoto huffs.

“You’ve never had anything in your ass before, you’ll hurt yourself if you’re not loose enough,” Sousuke warns. Makoto pulls his fingers out and pours more lube into his palm before grabbing Sousuke’s dick and slicking it down. Sousuke flinches and moans, eyes sliding shut and hips tensing. “Holy fucking _shit_.”

“I like a little pain,” Makoto pants. Sousuke peers at him with squinted, watering eyes.

“I’m going to cum before you get it all the way in if you keep talking like that,” he breathes. Makoto licks his lips and crawls up Sousuke’s body, positioning his ass just above Sousuke’s cock and guiding the tip to his hole. Just as he’s about to sink down, there’s a great commotion from the kitchen. There’s the sound of pots and pans hitting the floor, followed by the shrill laughter of Kimiko and Junpei, which makes Sousuke and Makoto jump.

Makoto feels Sousuke instantly begin to soften in his hand and, panicked, he strokes him hard to try and get it up again. The awkward position has him stroking at the completely wrong angle, making Sousuke gasp sharply and shove Makoto off.

“I--” Makoto begins. He sits back on the bed as he helplessly watches Sousuke’s erection deflate. Sousuke stares down at it as if he can telepathically tell it to get back up, but it doesn’t so much as twitch. Very slowly, Makoto puts his clean hand over his eyes.

“Makoto…” Sousuke trails off. “Makoto? Uh… babe?”

“Oh…” Makoto whispers. His voice rises into a shout, “… _MY GOD!_ ”

Sousuke flinches, a scared look on his face as Makoto lowers his hand from his eyes and takes deep breaths to compose himself.

“Please don’t kill me,” Sousuke says. Makoto holds up a hand, unable to look at him as he calms down. When he’s a little less murderous, he sighs and frowns at Sousuke.

“We were so _close_ ,” he whines. He takes a breath and drops his head into his hands. This really shouldn’t be as stressful as it is, but Makoto is nearly on the verge of tears. Beside him, Sousuke sits up and gently puts his hand on Makoto’s back.

“I’m pissed off, too,” Sousuke says softly. “But… okay, look at it this way. We know I _can_ get it up.”

“Yeah,” Makoto sighs. “Sorry for blowing up, I’m just… I am _so mad_ at your penis right now.”

Sousuke bursts into laughter and Makoto joins in, leaning heavily against his boyfriend and nuzzling into his neck.

“Wait, so what was that slamming noise? Are they okay?” Sousuke asks, looking at the door with concern. Makoto waves his hand dismissively.

“Dad does this thing where he sneaks up on Mom and tries to scare her. It always works.”

“So you inherited your scaredy-cat genes from your mom,” Sousuke snickers. Makoto smacks his thigh and stands up to retrieve his clothes from the floor. Tugging off his shirt, he deposits his dirty clothes in the hamper. From behind him, Sousuke hums, “Mmm.”

“What is it?” Makoto asks. Sousuke smirks and stands, yanking up his boxers as he does.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you completely naked before,” Sousuke purrs, taking three long strides towards Makoto. Sousuke backs him against the wall, trapping him there with a hand planted on either side of his head. “You have a sexy body.”

“A-Ah, well--” Makoto stammers, flushing red and looking down at the floor. He slaps his hands over his face. “C-C’mon, we’re already familiar with each other, so…”

“You were so perverted just a second ago. Where did that Makoto go?” Sousuke asks. He leans in to kiss Makoto’s neck, making him sigh and tip his head back against the wall.

“It was… because in the moment… I…” Makoto struggles to say. He pinches his lips together to bite back a moan as Sousuke mouths his neck and nips at the skin threateningly. “D-Don’t leave a hickey there.”

“I’ll do whatever the hell I want,” Sousuke hisses in Makoto’s ear. Makoto feels a sharp chill pierce his body and he rolls his head to the side, baring his neck for Sousuke to use as he pleases. But Sousuke doesn’t leave a hickey anywhere. Instead, his hands slide up to Makoto’s throat, wrapping his fingers around it and placing his thumbs on top of his adam’s apple. With a grunt, Makoto struggles to swallow.

“Sousuke,” he whispers, his voice a soft wheeze. Sousuke’s face remains carefully blank as one hand remains at Makoto’s throat while the other slides down his body to his erection and starts to slowly pump him. Makoto squirms. “Wait, I wanted…”

“I know what you want,” Sousuke interrupts. His fingers tighten on Makoto’s throat ever so slightly. “You like this, don’t you? Pervert.”

“Mmn,” Makoto moans, bucking into Sousuke’s hand. After a moment, Sousuke pauses and leans in close to Makoto’s ear.

“If you want me to stop, tap my arm twice,” Sousuke breathes. Makoto tenses as the pressure on his throat increases slightly. As soon as it starts, Sousuke pulls back and looks evenly into Makoto’s eyes. “Can I do this?”

“Please,” Makoto begs breathlessly. “Please do that again.”

“I knew you wanted this,” Sousuke purrs, sinking easily back into the scene. His face becomes coldly blank again as he restricts Makoto’s breathing. “You’ve been doing so well, holding out for me. But I knew you wouldn’t be able to hold it.”

“ _Hhk_ ,” Makoto croaks.

“You can still talk? What a pain.”

The pressure increases again and Makoto can no longer breathe. He snaps his hips forward, bucking into Sousuke’s hand desperately. Sousuke doesn’t make him hold his breath for long, letting up and almost removing his hand completely to allow Makoto to breathe.

“Put it back,” Makoto hisses. Sousuke caresses his throat very gently.

“No,” he says simply. “This is new to me. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Mmnn,” Makoto whines. “Hurry…”

Sousuke tightens his hand and strokes Makoto faster. Makoto thrashes against the wall and cries out louder than intended. Sousuke hurriedly shushes him and swallows his cries with his lips, kissing him fiercely as Makoto sobs into his mouth. Makoto wraps his arms around Sousuke’s shoulders and digs his nails into his back. As he gets closer and closer to climax, he rakes his nails across Sousuke’s bare skin. Hissing, Sousuke quickens his pace and Makoto’s hips go numb. Sousuke muffles Makoto’s shrill voice as he tenses and cums hard. The intense relief from two weeks of holding back nearly has him in tears.

When it’s all over, Sousuke pulls his head back and Makoto rests against the wall, absolutely ruined. When he clears the tears from his eyes, Sousuke is wiping the back of his hand against his lips.

“You bit my lip,” Sousuke chuckles, licking the speck of blood welling up at the corner of his bottom lip. Makoto blinks, one eyelid faster than the other, and slowly slides down the wall. Sousuke follows, kneeling between his legs.

“You’re… hard again,” Makoto observes, looking down at Sousuke’s crotch. “B-But…”

“Let it go away,” Sousuke mutters into Makoto’s ear. “I want to wait until we’re completely alone. And… I have a request.”

“Mmn?”

Sousuke pulls back, his brows knitted together.

“…Can I be on the bottom first?” he asks slowly. Makoto cocks his head to the side, not completely sure what Sousuke means at first. When it clicks, however, his eyes widen.

“ _Huh?_ ”

“I want you to do me first,” Sousuke whispers. He shuffles closer, pushing Makoto up against the wall. Makoto drapes his legs over his thighs, moaning softly as the bulge in Sousuke’s boxers presses up against his over-sensitive dick.

“But I want to be on the bottom, too,” Makoto protests weakly.

“You can, and you will,” Sousuke assures him. He pulls back and his face is deeply serious. “But I want to do it first.”

“So I have to have the pressure?” Makoto asks in a whine.

“Look. I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. I kept thinking to myself that I’d definitely be on top when it comes to sex. Maybe it’s because of your nature, or just because I had a stupid domination complex or something like that. But you feel the best when I’m being rough with you. And I’m too nervous about hurting you.”

“I’m not fragile,” Makoto huffs. Sousuke shakes his head.

“I know. But you were literally about to take me without stretching yourself out enough. And I almost let you. I know it doesn’t seem like a big deal, but… if you like a little pain, I’m more than willing to give it to you. But not before I learn more about it,” Sousuke says. He cups Makoto’s face in his hands. “If we’re going to mess around with pain, I’m going to do it safely.”

“…You’re really obsessed with consent,” Makoto says slowly. Sousuke frowns.

“Of course I am. It’s important to me,” he says. “Isn’t it important to you?”

“Well, yeah, of course… but you always…” Makoto trails off. Sousuke sighs and sits back on his heels.

“My dad actually talked to me about it a lot. When I first started dating girls, he was real strict about safe sex and stuff. It’s really important to him. And it’s probably because I was an accident,” Sousuke says, laughing. Makoto’s brows instantly furrow, concerned.

“Sousuke.”

“I know you can’t get pregnant or anything,” Sousuke says. He smiles slightly and shrugs. “But it’s habit, I guess? My dad really nailed it into my skull. And quit looking so upset. My dad loves me even though I was an accident.”

Sousuke pokes the wrinkles on the bridge of Makoto’s nose.

“So yeah. Can we just… keep on exploring sexually?”

“It doesn’t have to be rough for me to be satisfied,” Makoto tries. Sousuke’s eyes darken.

“I don’t think you understand. I don’t know if I have the self control to be gentle with you,” he mutters. Makoto shivers at his voice and shuts his eyes.

“O-Oh.”

“And I want to prove to you that I trust you,” Sousuke adds. “I know that probably sounds stupid to say, but I need you to understand just how much I trust you. And, I don’t know, I just feel like letting another dude put his dick in your asshole requires a lot of trust.”

Makoto laughs at Sousuke’s crude language, tipping his head back against the wall.

“Okay, okay. I’ll be on top first,” Makoto finally agrees. Sousuke smiles.

“Thanks. And I promise you’ll get your turn on the bottom,” he murmurs into Makoto’s ear, making him shudder.

“But do you actually want to be on the bottom?” Makoto asks. “I don’t want you to if you feel like it’s your duty or something.”

Sousuke blushes unexpectedly and averts his eyes. He laughs impulsively and rubs his neck.

“I’m going to be honest with you when I tell you that I’m _definitely_ interested,” he admits. He clears his throat. “In the future, I might have to have a throwdown with you before we have sex to decide who gets to be on the bottom.”

“…Rock-paper-scissors?” Makoto deadpans.

“Yeah. What else?”

“I’m _not_ going to play rock-paper-scissors with you to decide who gets to be on the bottom whenever we have sex!”

“What _else_ do you suggest, genius?”

Makoto opens and closes his mouth uselessly before puffing up his cheeks.

“…I can’t believe we’re having this conversation right now,” Makoto groans. He looks down at the dried semen all over his stomach and grimaces. “This is so gross.”

“I think it’s kinda hot.”

“ _Sousuke!_ ”

“Okay, okay. Let’s get cleaned up,” Sousuke says. He hauls himself to his feet and helps Makoto up as well, holding him steady by the shoulders. “You can shower first. I’ll wait.”

“Thanks,” Makoto says. He leans in to kiss Sousuke’s cheek. Sousuke turns his head and kisses his lips instead, hands cupping his neck.

“Let’s buy condoms. And lube that doesn’t smell like a cookie factory,” he whispers in Makoto’s ear. Makoto laughs and smacks his arm.

“Hey! It was a gift!” he says. He grabs his bath robe from the hook on his door while Sousuke stands there for a moment, staring straight ahead as the gears of his brain turn. Just as Makoto leaves, he hears Sousuke’s confused voice:

“Who the fuck gave you lube as a gift?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friend [Diana.](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com)
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *******IMPORTANT********
> 
> Similar to the end of part 1, I will be taking a week off of updates in order to solidify plans for part 3. With that said:
> 
>   **THE NEXT FEFSKY UPDATE WILL BE ON WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 19**

“Onii-chan, Sou-nii, are you coming to the festival tonight with us?” Ran asks as she eats her breakfast. Makoto looks up from his own food, shoots Sousuke an apologetic look, and smiles at the twins.

“Of course,” he says. Sousuke makes a face and remains silent, munching on a bit of egg.

“Makoto, you’ve spent enough time watching Ren and Ran over your days off,” Kimiko says, bringing a platter of ham to the dining table and loading up everyone’s plates. “How about… you bring them back after the fireworks, and then you and Sousuke-kun can be free for the rest of Obon to do whatever you want. You wanted to borrow the camping gear to go camping, right?”

“Yes, please,” Makoto says, perking up and grinning. Sousuke remains placid as ever, but doesn’t look quite as broody as before.

“I think the second tent still needs to be cleaned, though. So after breakfast why don’t you--”

“Kimiko, dear, I think they’ll only need one tent,” Junpei says calmly between sips of tea. Kimiko pauses as realization crosses her face.

“Oh. Oh yes! Silly me. One tent is plenty big enough. Don’t mind me,” she titters.

“I wanna go camping, too,” Ran complains.

“Me too,” Ren chimes in. “Can we come? Please, Onii-chan? Pleeeease?”

“ _Please?_ ” Ran begs. Both children clasp their hands together. It’s so heartbreakingly cute, Makoto can’t resist. He opens his mouth to speak, but Sousuke pinches his thigh under the table and makes him jump. Sousuke flashes him a wide-eyed look that says ‘I’m going to rip your mouth off’.

“I’m afraid that me and Sousuke want to spend some alone time together,” Makoto laughs nervously. Ran and Ren let out a chorus of whining.

“No _faaaair!_ ”

“Ran, Ren,” Junpei says sternly. The twins close their mouths and pout at their food. “Your brother deserves some alone time.”

“Yeah, so he can slobber all over Sou-nii,” Ran mumbles. Junpei’s eyebrows snap up. Makoto slaps his hands over his beet red face. Sousuke tenses, waiting for one of Makoto’s parents to murder him.

“Sou-nii kisses Onii-chan all the time,” Ren says cheerfully, nibbling at his rice. Makoto lowers his trembling hands from his eyes to give his father a pleading look. Junpei catches on quick.

“I wonder how much Ran and Ren will get for their festival allowance,” Junpei muses, taking a sip of tea as Ran and Ren gasp dramatically and bounce up and down in their seats.

“A thousand yen! A thousand!” Ran cheers.

“Yeah!” Ren agrees. Junpei hums.

“…We’ll see,” he says simply. Ran and Ren exchange excited glances and return to eating quietly. Sighing with relief, Makoto relaxes. Junpei gives him a wink.

“Sousuke-kun, would you like to borrow one of Makoto’s yukatas? I’m sure it would fit. He has a nice navy blue one that would suit you,” Kimiko offers as she returns to the table and sits down with a steaming cup of tea.

“Nah, they’re kind of a pain to walk in,” Sousuke says. Kimiko chortles and pats Sousuke’s arm.

“I’m sure. Makoto always had trouble walking in the clogs. It’s because you’re both so tall!”

“I think I’m going in casual clothes, too,” Makoto says. Kimiko nods.

“I won’t take your yukata out, then.”

After breakfast, Makoto and Sousuke offer to clean up the kitchen while Ran and Ren clean their room (one of the conditions for their thousand-yen allowance). Makoto washes dishes while Sousuke rinses and dries.

“After this, we should go visit the drug store,” Makoto says softly. Sousuke lifts his eyebrows.

“What, to buy condoms and lube? Are you going to be able to handle doing that in broad daylight?”

“All the stores will be closed later when the festival starts!” Makoto whispers. “It’s our only chance.”

“Sounds like a secret mission,” Sousuke snorts. Makoto bumps him with his hip and Sousuke bumps him right back. “Hey. Don’t be a brat.”

Makoto bumps Sousuke again and Sousuke shoves him, causing him to drop a plate into the sink. Before he can stop himself, Makoto slaps Sousuke’s cheek with a palm full of soap suds. Sousuke splutters, spitting out soap as Makoto giggles uncontrollably.

“You little--” Sousuke huffs, throwing an arm around Makoto and forcing his head down. Makoto laughs as they stumble around the kitchen. Sousuke runs Makoto into the stove with a great clanging sound, making his hip dig painfully into one of the knobs.

“Ow,” Makoto hisses. Sousuke’s hands drop to his hips, holding them.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. Makoto eyes a cluster of bubbles in Sousuke’s hair, laughs, and reaches up to pull it off. He touches his forehead to Sousuke’s, rubbing their noses together.

“It’s fine,” he sighs. He’s about to give Sousuke a kiss when Junpei suddenly appears in the doorway with his tea cup in hand.

“Sure is a lot of banging around in here. I thought you two were cleaning up,” Junpei jokes, flashing them a warm smile as the two of them scramble to separate. “Oh, don’t mind me. I was young and in love once, too.”

Makoto blushes and fidgets as his father whistles and rinses out his tea cup.

“And I’m sure I don’t have to remind you two to be safe tonight,” Junpei says amicably. Makoto blinks and stares as Junpei glances over his shoulder with a smile. “I’m sure you understand?”

 _Oh._ He’s talking about having safe sex. Now both Sousuke and Makoto are blushing, Makoto’s eyes trained on the floor and Sousuke’s head turned stubbornly away.

“Yeah, Dad,” Makoto mumbles. Junpei dries his hands.

“Excellent.”

He exits the kitchen, leaving Makoto and Sousuke to stand in awkward silence.

“Your dad catches onto everything,” Sousuke comments. Makoto groans.

“I know.”

After they finish cleaning up the kitchen, Sousuke and Makoto leave the house to go to the drug store. It’s not too bad of a walk, and luckily for them, the store is still open by the time they get there.

The drug store is small, quiet, and the artificial lighting is jarringly bright. Soft pop music plays over the speakers, and the only other people in the store are the cashier and some guy checking out a rack of magazines. It’s way too quiet in here for Makoto’s liking.

“Welcome,” the cashier says as they pass the counter. Makoto manages a choked greeting while Sousuke nods mutely. This really shouldn’t be as embarrassing as it is, but still Makoto reaches out and clings to the back of Sousuke’s shirt as they slink into the back of the store.

“Quit panicking, you’re drawing more attention to yourself,” Sousuke whispers once they’re hidden behind one of the aisles.

“That doesn’t help at all,” Makoto whines. He jumps at the sound of the door opening again and hides behind Sousuke.

“Jeez,” Sousuke huffs. They find the condoms along the back wall, along with quite a few different brands of lubricant and creams. There’s a small rack of personal massagers as well, which has Makoto hiding his face between Sousuke’s shoulders.

“This is so embarrassing,” Makoto whimpers. Sousuke heaves a sigh.

“The faster we pick one, the faster we can get out of here,” Sousuke hisses. “What’s your size?”

“I don’t know my _size!_ ”

“Shit. Why didn’t we figure this out before we left?” Sousuke growls. He grabs two different boxes and flips them over and over in his hands. “You’re like six and a half inches, right? Seven?”

“Shh- _hhh!_ ” Makoto shushes, shaking Sousuke’s shoulders. He wishes he was dead.

“Sousuke-kun? Makoto-senpai?”

Makoto and Sousuke freeze before shakily looking over their shoulders to see Gou standing at the end of the aisle.

“Sousuke-kun! And Makoto-senpai! I knew I heard your voices!” Gou exclaims, jogging up to them. Sousuke curses and shoves the condoms back onto the shelf. Unfortunately, that causes three more boxes to clatter to the floor.

“Gou? Where’d you go?”

Oh no.

Rin appears from around the corner, hands in the pockets of his jeans. He takes one look at Makoto and Sousuke and his eyes snap wide open.

“Makoto! Sousuke!” he gasps. His eyes drop to the condom boxes on the floor and his brows knit together. Makoto sweats profusely while Sousuke’s face twitches with the effort to smile at his best friend.

“Uh. Yo,” Sousuke says. He clears his throat and rolls his shoulders slightly. “Makoto?”

Realizing he’s been squeezing Sousuke’s shoulders, Makoto jumps away and rubs his sweaty palms on his shirt. Rin approaches and bends down to pick up a condom box.

“…Ribbed for her pleasure,” he reads flatly. Makoto blushes all the way to the tips of his ears as he slaps his hands over his face. Sousuke snatches the box out of Rin’s hand.

“Trying to pick a fight?” Sousuke snarls. Rin scoffs and kicks out at Sousuke, smacking his calf with the side of his foot.

“Hell no. Just wondering why you never told me you were in Iwatobi!” Rin snaps. Sighing, Gou comes between Rin and Sousuke, pressing on their chests with her palms.

“Jeez, you two can’t go a single day without bickering!” she scolds. Then, she looks deviously at Sousuke in a way that reminds Makoto of Nagisa. “And Sousuke-kun, _Makoto-senpai_ , what are you doing looking at _condoms?_ ”

“Don’t make them answer that,” Rin groans. With a roll of his eyes, he sticks out his fist. “… Oh, whatever. ’Sup, Sousuke.”

Sousuke fist bumps Rin, his strained smile relaxing considerably.

“’Sup. I didn’t know you were in Iwatobi.”

“Obviously. It’s Obon. Gou wanted me to take her to the festival,” Rin mutters, jerking his thumb at Gou.

“Hey, you offered to take me! You took time off practice and everything!” Gou protests. Rin pinches his lips together, rubs the back of his neck, and harrumphs.

“Whatever,” he grunts. Gou smiles triumphantly. Rin turns his attention to Makoto and smiles gently at him. “Hey, Makoto. It’s been a long time.”

“Um… yeah,” Makoto says hesitantly. He swallows and manages to plaster his usual smile on his face. “It’s nice to see you!”

There’s a long, awkward silence. Makoto has a feeling it’s not just because they’re next to a wall of condoms. With the way Sousuke is shifting from foot to foot, Makoto assumes there’s still some tension between him and Rin for whatever reason. However, Gou is quick to break the silence.

“Onii-chan, why don’t you tell them the big news!” she says, tugging Rin’s sleeve. Rin visibly hesitates before shrugging and shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Ah. Yeah. I got selected to participate in the 2016 Olympics. In Brazil,” Rin says. Makoto hears Sousuke inhale sharply. He looks up at him and sees his shocked expression. It’s laced with pain rather than joy or pride. Rin notices it too, apparently, because he downcasts his eyes. “Well, I should be more specific. I was selected to participate in the trials. I’m not officially on the Olympic swim team yet. But my coach wants me to try out for butterfly and free, all distances. He says I have a good chance of making the cut.”

“Isn’t that wonderful?” Gou asks excitedly. Makoto glances at Sousuke. The pain is gone from his face.

“That’s awesome, Rin. Congratulations,” Sousuke says. Makoto hears the slight strain in his voice, and he’s sure Rin can hear it, too. Sousuke offers Rin a fist bump again. Rin pauses before bumping him, holding his fist there for a prolonged second.

“I wish you were going to be there, too,” Rin mutters. Sousuke’s smile fades and he averts his eyes. He shoves his hands in his pockets and shrugs, an indifferent look on his face.

“Well. Shit happens, I guess,” he says. He glances at Rin. “Uh. You’re looking ripped, dude.”

Rin grins at the break in the tension and lifts one arm to flex it. Gou squeaks, eyes shining as she ogles her brother’s muscles. Makoto laughs softly. Some things will never change.

“Yeah, Coach’s got us on a real strict regimen. Lots of training for trials. Oh! Makoto, I was wondering—do you know if Haru’s got his new training schedule yet?” Rin suddenly asks. It catches Makoto off guard and he blinks in confusion.

“Huh? Haru hasn’t said anything about a new schedule,” Makoto says. Rin snorts, flashing his sharp teeth as he grins and reaches out to whap Makoto on the chest.

“Ha. Quit pulling my leg. He called me as soon as he got back from Germany.”

“He’s not back from Germany,” Makoto says, suddenly panicked. Rin’s smile fades and his brow furrows.

“He got back two days ago, man. He… got nominated by his coach to participate in the swimming… trials?” Rin trails off. Makoto gapes at him. Rin stares back, incredulous. “He’s already got a fucking _sponsor_ , dude. You didn’t know any of this?”

“ _No_ ,” Makoto croaks. A strange, searing heat fills him, as if he had just humiliated himself in front of a crowd in front of a thousand people. His voice trembles, “Haru… Haru hasn’t called me at all.”

Sousuke, Rin, and Gou stare at him in shock.

“ _Haru_ didn’t tell _you?_ ”

“Are you and Haruka-senpai fighting?” Gou asks softly. Makoto shakes his head, forcing a smile onto his face.

“It… must just be a misunderstanding. Don’t worry,” he says. As Rin and Gou relax, Makoto feels Sousuke’s eyes burning into the side of his head.

“Well, I don’t know what his problem is, but I can’t imagine it’s a big deal,” Rin drawls, stretching and nodding to Sousuke and Makoto. “You guys going to the festival? Or… are you spending the night in?”

Makoto flushes red all over again and Sousuke punches Rin’s arm.

“Oi,” he says gruffly. Gou giggles and Makoto is reminded once again of Nagisa as she puts her hands innocently behind her back.

“You don’t have to be so _shy_ ,” she singsongs. Makoto whines.

“Ugh… we’re going to the festival, yes. And… I’m sorry, but I think we should be heading back. It was nice seeing you, Rin, Gou. Call me sometime,” he says abruptly. Feeling impatient, he goes to the wall of condoms and grabs three different brands and a bottle of lube. He doesn’t look Rin, Sousuke, or Gou in the eye as he walks past them towards the counter. From behind him, he hears Sousuke curse, quickly say goodbye to Rin and Gou, and jog to catch up to Makoto.

“Are you okay?” Sousuke murmurs. “Makoto…”

“I-I’m sure it’s fine. Haru wouldn’t purposely keep information from me,” Makoto rationalizes. “He was probably just busy.”

Makoto deposits the condoms and lube on the counter, too distraught to even care about the strange look the cashier gives him and Sousuke as she rings them up.

“… _Makoto_. Hold on,” Sousuke says. When Makoto has made his purchase, he grabs the bag and exits the drug store. The embarrassment of having to buy condoms and lubricant is nothing compared to the sick, twisting feeling in Makoto’s gut.

Sousuke suddenly grabs Makoto’s elbow, stopping him mid-step and turning him around.

“I said hold on,” Sousuke demands. His grip loosens slightly, and his face softens. “Is this going to ruin your mood tonight?”

“Haru tells me everything. Especially important things like this,” Makoto says. He hangs his head, feeling absolutely devastated and betrayed. “I can’t believe he’d tell Rin something that important without…”

“Don’t let yourself be pushed around by Nanase’s bullshit anymore,” Sousuke says grumpily. He smooths his hand down Makoto’s forearm as some sort of halfhearted gesture of sympathy, then drops his arms and gazes at Makoto evenly. “Okay? I don’t know what his deal is, but if he knows you, he knows you’d be upset by this. And this shit that he pulled tells me he’s specifically trying to piss you off.”

“I… don’t think…” Makoto trails off. Sousuke’s scowl deepens.

“I don’t think you understand Nanase as well as you think, either,” he ventures. Makoto looks up sharply at him, about to get defensive, but Sousuke holds up a hand. “Listen. I really think you’ve spent so long mothering him that you’ve like… tricked yourself into thinking he is some sort of complete idiot. Someone who just ‘doesn’t get’ communication. And you’ve let him kick you around. And fuck with your emotions. And guess what? That’s a bunch of bullshit. He’s pulling the exact kind of shit he was pulling with Rin two years ago. He plays victim until everybody is fucking clamoring to get him on their side.”

“Okay, there’s a lot more to Haru than that,” Makoto counters, bristling. “I _don’t_ think he’s an idiot. And I know he did this to get my attention. And I _don’t_ mother him!”

“You kind of mother him,” Sousuke disagrees. Makoto’s fists clench, and Sousuke gestures for him to calm down. “You’ve mentioned before that he was pissed off about you not showing up to some… Skype party or something, right?”

“…Yeah. He wanted to celebrate getting a gold medal but me and you were on a date,” Makoto explains. Sousuke clicks his tongue.

“So at the end of the day, this boils down to me,” he sneers. “And about him being a god damn baby about me dating you.”

“Can you _please_ stop generalizing Haru?” Makoto pleads, his voice developing a bit of an edge. Sousuke scowls. “He has gotten so much better. He used to depend on me a lot more but he doesn’t let me mother him that much anymore.”

“Nanase has shown nothing but a piss poor attitude since we got together. And I get it, him and I fucking _hate_ each other. But it’s been long enough. It’s time for him to suck it up and stop thinking I’m the worst thing that’s ever happened to you.”

“He just--”

“When are you gonna stop _defending_ him?” Sousuke asks incredulously. “Okay, can you stop and consider _my_ feelings on this instead of jumping to defend that guy?”

“I do consider your feelings,” Makoto protests, stunned.

“No, you don’t. Seriously, do you think I _get off_ to hating that guy? He makes me feel like shit. He makes me feel like a shitty person who can’t make my boyfriend happy. I can tell every time you’ve been to his house before you come to mine, because you put on this fake smile at the door. And I tear myself up trying to figure out what the _fuck_ Nanase said to you. I can’t help but wonder what type of doubts he’s putting in your head. And guess what, that’s part of the _fucking_ reason I tried breaking up with you,” Sousuke spits. “Because for someone to hate me for that long, I _have_ to be doing something wrong.”

“He wouldn’t hate you if he knew you,” Makoto says. His voice breaks. “And you wouldn’t hate him, either. If you’d just be willing to--”

“I don’t think I can even look that guy in the face, to be honest,” Sousuke says. He crosses his arms. “I’m not interested in making up with him. Not anymore. Fuck him.”

“Do you really think that’s going to _help_ the problem?” Makoto asks, his voice pleading as he gestures helplessly to Sousuke. Sousuke doesn’t budge or blink. “Please, Sousuke, I--”

“No matter what, he’s always the victim to you. Whose side are you on?”

“Don’t make me choose between the two of you!” Makoto barks without warning. His voice becomes small, “Don’t. Please don’t do this to me. I can’t… it’s not fair.”

He puts his head in his hand and stands there for a moment, on the brink of tears. 

“I’m sorry. I crossed a line,” Sousuke says quietly. Makoto feels a hand on his face and he looks up. Sousuke cups his cheek. “I’m sorry. I hit a chord, didn’t I?”

“Haru thinks you’re monopolizing me. A while ago, he asked if I loved you or him more. I couldn’t answer,” Makoto whispers. He looks down. “And now you--I don’t get it. Why do I have to _pick_ between the two most _important_ people in my life?”

“Shit. Come here. I didn’t mean it that way.”

Sousuke pulls him into an embrace, leaning against the wall of a building as he holds Makoto to his chest and pets his hair.

“We’re in public,” Makoto murmurs against his shoulder. Sousuke holds him tighter.

“I don’t give a shit. And there’s no one around.”

Makoto brings up his hands to hold Sousuke’s waist, hiding his face in the crook of his neck.

“I don’t want to make you choose. It slipped out,” Sousuke mutters into Makoto’s ear. He kisses it and apologizes again, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Makoto sighs. He lifts his head and nuzzles his nose against Sousuke’s cheek. “I just want everyone to get along.”

“I can’t. I can’t with him,” Sousuke says quietly. “I… literally don’t think I’d be able to look him in the eye without wanting to knock him out at this point.”

“…That’s horrible,” Makoto whimpers. “But… he probably feels the same way.”

“I won’t make you choose between me and him. But if you need to spend more time with him, so be it. I am not monopolizing you. We love each other. Of course we want to be with each other all the time,” Sousuke grumbles. “It’s not like you’re actively choosing to ignore him.”

Sousuke pushes away from the wall and gently brushes Makoto’s wrist.

“C’mon. It’s too hot out to be standing out here,” he says. “Let’s go back.”

Makoto sighs, still feeling an uncomfortable twist in his belly, but nods anyway.

“Okay.”

After they return, Sousuke and Makoto use the rest of the day to prepare things for their night out camping. Makoto takes his second bath (he’d gotten sweaty after wrestling the tent out of the closet and wanted to freshen up before going out). When he returns to his bedroom, Sousuke is nowhere to be found—he’s probably doing something with Makoto’s parents. Rubbing his hair with a towel, Makoto goes to his bed and flops down.

He can’t stop thinking about Haru. He wants to call him badly, but what would he say? There’s no doubt that Haru’s looking to get Makoto’s attention. But what sort of response is he looking for? Anger? Sadness? Maybe he just wants Makoto to take it lying down and not say anything. Maybe this doesn’t even have anything to do with Makoto, and he really was busy—

That’s definitely not the case.

Frustrated, Makoto lies back on the bed and stares at the ceiling. The more he thinks about it, the less he wants to bring it up. Maybe Haru just wanted to respect his space? Haru knows Makoto is in Iwatobi and that Sousuke is with him. That could definitely be it. But why would he think Makoto is uninterested in his swimming career?

The bedroom door opens and Makoto looks over as Sousuke enters, his laptop tucked under his arm.

“Where were you?” Makoto asks. Sousuke shrugs.

“Sitting outside. Doing some research,” he says. He sets his laptop down on Makoto’s desk and joins Makoto on the bed. Makoto smiles, reaching out to rub Sousuke’s bicep up and down.

“Mmm? Researching what?”

“Ah… nothing. But forget that, how are you doing?”

“Uhh…” Makoto trails off. “Well, I can’t stop thinking about Haru. I’m really… I don’t know.”

“Stop thinking about it,” Sousuke murmurs. He leans down and places an elbow on either side of Makoto’s head. “This is your time off from the bullshit. Own it.”

“You say that like it’s easy,” Makoto giggles. He touches Sousuke’s face, stroking his fingers along the strong angle of his jaw.

“It’s not. But you should still try. At least for the twins’ sake, right?”

“Mm. You sound jealous.”

“I’m not.”

Sousuke pinches Makoto’s nose. He lowers his head to peck at his cheek and nip tenderly at his jaw. Makoto sighs and lets his eyes slide shut as Sousuke soothes his worries with his lips.

The door slams open, revealing Ran in a bright pink, flower-patterned yukata. She has a little coin purse shaped like the head of a cat, and her hair is pinned up in a cute bun.

“Ewww! _Mooom_ , Onii-chan and Sou-nii are slobbering on each other again!” Ran tattles. Makoto flushes red and Sousuke grits his teeth.

“I told you to knock before showing your brother your yukata!” Kimiko yells back. Makoto slaps his hands over his burning face as Sousuke stands.

“I’m going to throw you out the window,” Sousuke snarls, reaching for Ran.

“I wanna kiss Onii-chan, too!” Ren chimes in. He runs into the room in a dark blue yukata with a fish pattern on it and launches himself at Sousuke’s legs. “ _And_ I wanna kiss Sou-nii!”

Makoto laughs tiredly and sits up. Despite the buzzing negativity in his head, seeing Sousuke’s face melt from rage into reluctant fondness puts a smile on his face.

“You two look adorable,” Makoto compliments. “Come here and let me see you.”

The twins run to Makoto, crawling into his lap as Makoto smooths his hands over their yukatas and straightens out the sleeves.

“Did Mom tie your hair up, Ran?” Makoto asks. Ran shakes her head.

“Daddy did it,” she says. She holds up her hands and shows Makoto her nails, which are painted blue. “But I painted my nails!”

“I see that. Ren, did you paint your nails, too?”

“Ran helped me,” Ren says. He holds up his hands and shows off his green nail polish. Makoto grins and ruffles his hair.

“Very cute,” he says. “Are you ready to go now?”

“Yeah!” Ran and Ren cheer. Makoto smiles and checks his watch.

“The fireworks start at eight, so that gives us two hours to eat and play games,” Makoto says. “And Mom and Dad want you home after the fireworks.”

“Aww,” Ran and Ren whine. Makoto kisses their cheeks.

“The faster we get going, the more time we have to play,” Makoto reminds them. Ran and Ren look at each other and hop off his lap, racing each other to get to the door. They run down the hall and cheer at the top of their lungs. Makoto stands from the bed, smiling at first before the weight of the looming situation with Haru pulls his lips into a frown.

“You’ll worry the twins,” Sousuke warns. He reaches out and grabs Makoto’s nose, jostling him gently. “Smile.”

“I know,” Makoto sighs. He takes a deep breath and slaps his cheeks twice. “Alright! Good thoughts.”

“It’ll work out,” Sousuke assures him, slipping his hand into Makoto’s and squeezing tight.

“I sure hope so.”

\---

The festival is pretty crowded. Makoto sees quite a few people from Iwatobi High that he used to know, but for the most part he and Sousuke and the twins are left alone. The twins, with their pockets full of their allowance for the festival, nearly blow all of their yen on squid and sweets within the first half hour. However, Makoto steers them in the direction of the game booths. Ran and Ren try to catch goldfish with the little paper nets, but Ran is too rough with her net and Ren keeps holding his underwater for too long.

“Onii-chan, win us a goldfish!” Ran and Ren beg, grabbing Makoto’s hands and bouncing up and down. “Onii-chan, Onii-chan, _please!_ ”

“Ahaha--” Makoto laughs nervously. Sousuke lets out an extravagant sigh and pulls a hundred yen out of his wallet.

“Jeez. You brats are hopeless. Show me the ones you want and get outta my way.”

Makoto watches as Sousuke kneels down beside the tank, peering into the water. Ren points out a white and orange goldfish, while Ran points at a black one.

“You can do it, Sou-nii!” Ran cheers, hanging off of Sousuke’s arm as the booth owner hands him three paper nets. Ren hops onto Sousuke’s back just as Sousuke moves to catch a fish, making him jump in surprise and break the net.

“Do you want the stupid fish or not?!” he barks. The twins giggle as Sousuke grumbles to himself. Makoto kneels down beside Sousuke.

“Let me try,” Makoto offers. Sousuke hands him one of the remaining two nets. Makoto holds it above the water for a moment, tracing the movements of the one Ran wanted, before smoothly dunking his net in the water and gently lifting the fish out. Makoto gasps, “I caught it!”

The booth owner quickly transfers the little fish into a plastic bag with water in it, then ties it and hands it to Makoto. Makoto smiles and passes it to Ran, who squeals with delight.

“You’ll catch the one I wanted, right, Sou-nii?” Ren whimpers, snuggling Sousuke’s neck. Sousuke stares nervously at the water, watching Ren’s fish.

“Obviously,” he says. Makoto laughs softly at Sousuke, who focuses entirely on the fish. He mimics what Makoto did earlier, dunking his net into the water and moving quickly. He manages to lift it successfully out of the water and laughs triumphantly. “Ha, _yes!_ ”

The net rips just as he says it and the fish plops back into the water. Sousuke’s smile remains frozen on his face as Ren cries out.

“ _Nooo!_ ” Ren wails. Sousuke hurriedly digs another hundred yen out of his wallet.

“Three more!” Sousuke demands. Makoto just laughs.

Five nets later, Ren walks cheerfully alongside Makoto and Sousuke, admiring his new goldfish. Sousuke looks petulant, his hands shoved in his pockets and his lips pinched together in a tight line.

“You know, you didn’t have to spend your _own_ money,” Makoto teases. Sousuke hunches his shoulders.

“Shut it,” he mutters. Makoto bumps his shoulder against Sousuke and gives him a sunbeam smile, head-tilt and all.

“It was really sweet of you,” he says. Sousuke purses his lips and shrugs.

“Whatever. Ren would’ve been upset all night if I hadn’t caught that damn fish.”

Sousuke looks down at Ren, who is holding on to Sousuke’s shirt as he trots happily along. Sighing through his nose, a small smile appears on Sousuke’s lips and he removes his hand from his pocket to take Ren’s hand instead.

“If you don’t watch where you’re going, you’re going to run into somebody,” Sousuke warns. Ren gives him a big smile.

“Are the fireworks starting soon?” Ran asks. Makoto turns his attention to Ran and checks his watch.

“In about fifteen minutes. We should head to the shore. Are you ready?”

“Yeah!” Ran says. She points straight ahead. “To the shore!”

The four of them go to the boardwalk and go down to the shore. Many people are releasing lit paper lanterns onto the open waters and waving to them as they float away. Makoto watches the display fondly. It reminds him of his high school days, and of Haru. The thought of Haru makes a knot form in his stomach and his smile fades as he frowns out at the ocean and the dancing lights.

It’s been two years since his fight with Haru, almost to the day. Only a few yards away is the staircase that leads up to the platform where he and Haru nearly had a falling out.

“Hey.”

Makoto looks up at the sound of Sousuke’s voice.

“The twins want to go up there to watch the fireworks,” Sousuke says, pointing to the exact staircase Makoto had been thinking about. Laughing grimly at the irony of it, Makoto gives Sousuke a hesitant nod.

“…Alright. C’mon.”

They go up the staircase to the top of the platform, where Ren and Ran run to the railing and hop up onto it, staring up expectantly at the sky.

“Be careful with your fish!” Makoto calls after them. He and Sousuke stand a little ways behind Ran and Ren, watching them in silence.

“Something’s bothering you,” Sousuke states. Makoto turns to him, but Sousuke isn’t looking at him. He’s looking out straight ahead, the breeze ruffling his hair. Makoto follows his gaze to the ocean.

“Two years ago, me and Haru had a big fight right at this spot,” he mumbles.

“Is that when Rin took Nanase to Australia?” Sousuke asks. Makoto nods, biting his lip.

“Yeah. Because I… messed up. And I thought Haru would never trust me again. Rin was my last resort, because he’s the only one who could get through to Haru at that time. And I’m so grateful to him that he did. But even then, I didn’t know that Haru needed to be in a different _country_.”

“I don’t think it had as much to do with you as it had to do with Nanase getting his head out of his ass and stepping forward.”

Makoto flashes Sousuke a look, but gives up being annoyed with him. Instead, he sighs and hugs himself, looking up at the night sky.

“I have nightmares about it sometimes,” Makoto admits. “About him never coming back.”

There’s a whistling noise as the first firework launches. Ran and Ren shriek with delight as it explodes overhead in a burst of color and sound. The fireworks display starts slow, with one firework at a time. The booms echo across the bay and throughout Iwatobi, the sound shaking Makoto down to his bones.

Sousuke slips an arm around Makoto’s waist, pulling him flush up against his side. When the next firework bursts, he sneaks a kiss on Makoto’s cheek.

“Nobody was looking,” he murmurs into Makoto’s ear before Makoto can protest.

“Jeez,” Makoto sighs, but he smiles anyway and settles against Sousuke. He tips his head to the side, leaning it against Sousuke’s cheek. “You probably wouldn’t even care if _everyone_ was looking.”

“Exactly.”

When the fireworks are over, the excitement of the event has Ran and Ren rubbing their eyes and dragging their feet on the walk back. Finally, Makoto and Sousuke give up trying to get them to walk, and instead hoist Ran and Ren into their arms. All of the stalls are still open, but many of the children are no longer present. More and more adults are milling around, so there are more people smoking and drinking. Makoto is somewhat tense on their way out of the festival area, and only relaxes once they’re at the staircase leading up to the house.

“Never really liked that about Obon,” Makoto says, adjusting his grip on Ran, who is fast asleep in his arms. “I always worry about these two.”

“I wouldn’t let anything happen to them,” Sousuke says, glancing at Ren as he sleeps soundly on his shoulder. Sousuke realizes what he said and, clearing his throat, corrects himself, “ _We_ wouldn’t let anything happen to them.”

“I heard that,” Makoto teases. Sousuke huffs at him.

“Shut it.”

When they get home, Makoto leads Sousuke to Ran and Ren’s bedroom. When he puts Ran on the bed and starts unpinning her hair, she whines in protest.

“Onii-chan, can we come camping with you?” she asks, rubbing her eyes. She looks up blearily at Makoto, trying in vain to keep her eyes open.

“You’re too sleepy,” Makoto laughs softly. He carefully removes Ran’s yukata and sets it aside. Sousuke, who managed to get Ren to stand up, helps him out of his yukata and holds him steady while Makoto gathers some pajamas for the twins. He gives Ren’s pajamas to Sousuke and returns to Ran, who has fallen back asleep. Makoto rouses her once more to put a night shirt on her, then tucks her into bed.

When the twins are in bed, Makoto grabs their goldfish and tiptoes out of their room with Sousuke.

“Now I want to nap,” Sousuke whispers once the door is shut. Makoto grins and takes Sousuke to the kitchen, where he rinses out an old goldfish bowl, fills it with water, and puts the new goldfish inside.

“I think my parents are asleep already, so let’s just go,” Makoto murmurs. “The camping stuff should be in the living room, where we left it.”

“Got it.”

Feeling kind of sneaky, Makoto and Sousuke tread softly into the living room, where the tent lies waiting along with a big bundle of blankets and pillows. Makoto’s backpack, which is filled with their ‘supplies’, sits innocently on the couch.

“I got the tent and your backpack,” Sousuke offers. “I’ll carry a few pillows, too.”

“Thanks,” Makoto says. He hands Sousuke three pillows, then wraps his arms around the rest of the bundle. They carry everything out the door and down the staircase.

“It feels like we’re doing something bad,” Sousuke remarks. Makoto laughs a bit nervously.

“I kinda feel the same way. But I know this remote spot by the rocks where high tide can’t reach. We’ll have complete privacy.”

“Sounds scandalous,” Sousuke snorts. “I like it.”

It takes ten minutes to get down to the beach, then another twenty minutes to get to Makoto’s spot. It’s just over a hill of beach grass, and through a rocky outcrop that requires some tricky footwork to maneuver. Luckily, Makoto grew up on this beach and knows just where to place his feet so they don’t slip, but he slows down to make sure Sousuke doesn’t fall.

“Thank god the moon is so bright,” Sousuke mutters after nearly falling flat on his ass due to a misplaced toe. “Are we almost there?”

“A little further, sorry!” Makoto laughs. “It’s just past these rocks. We have to walk in the water.”

They pause to take their shoes off and roll up their jeans before wading into the water and walking around the large boulders. On the other side is a small, isolated beach. The sixty-foot stretch is closed in by rocks and boulders, and to the back is a hill covered in beach grass that leads up to a forest.

“Tah-dah,” Makoto says. “This place is really nice. And high tide isn’t a problem, as long as we set up the tent far back.”

“For crying out loud,” Sousuke sighs. “I didn’t sign up for this shoujo manga shit. At first I didn’t believe I would actually be losing my virginity on a deserted beach in a god damn _tent_ , but here we fucking are.”

“Would you rather go back to the house and risk one of the twins walking in on us?” Makoto asks. He puts the blankets and pillows on a rock so they don’t get sandy. “This is, like, the only place in Iwatobi that’s a secret.”

“Nobody else knows about this place?” Sousuke asks warily. Makoto grimaces.

“Umm… Haru, Rin, Nagisa, and Rei know about it.”

“God,” Sousuke groans. “Alright, fine. But if we get discovered, you’re dead.”

They get to work with setting up the tent and, after a while, a blush begins to spread across Makoto’s face. Finally he sits back on his heels and slaps his hands over his eyes.

“Oh _god_ , this _is_ just like a shoujo manga!” Makoto cries.

“That’s what I was saying!” Sousuke says. “Look. Maybe we should just wait until we’re back at school before we--”

“No,” Makoto says. “No way. I’m not waiting anymore. I can’t wait another minute.”

Sousuke sets his jaw, blushing as he uses a rock to pound a stake into the sand.

“ _Fuck_.”

When the tent is set up, Makoto crawls inside while Sousuke passes him blankets and pillows. He builds a quaint little nest, complete with a lantern hanging from the hook at the top of the tent.

“Okay. It’s ready,” Makoto announces. “Make sure you wipe the sand off your feet before you get in.”

Outside the tent, Makoto hears Sousuke let out a string of curses. He sits at the edge of the tent and wipes his feet off before rolling inside. When he sits up, he squints at the lantern.

“I’m covering that light with a shirt,” he mutters.

“What is with you and _mood lighting?_ ” Makoto groans as he zips up the tent.

“Okay _look_ , if we’re gonna fuck in a _tent_ , the _least_ you could let me do is this. Just deal with it,” Sousuke grumps. He strips his t-shirt off and ties it around the lantern, casting the tent into very dim light. “Awesome.”

There’s a long silence in which Sousuke seems to realize that he’s partially nude. He clears his throat and looks away. Meanwhile, Makoto hugs his knees against his chest and gnaws at his lip.

“So…” Sousuke trails off. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Makoto echoes.

“This is a nice tent.”

“Yeah.”

“I like the little nest you built.”

“…Um, thanks.”

Makoto looks up at Sousuke and catches his eyes. They look away again, bashful. Shaking, Makoto makes the first move and crawls to Sousuke’s side. With a deep breath, he leans in and brushes their lips together. This part is easy. He melts against Sousuke, expecting to be pushed down onto his back. Instead, however, Sousuke takes his arm and lies down, pulling Makoto on top of him. Heart pounding, Makoto runs his hands down Sousuke’s bare chest, pausing at his pecs to massage the underside of his nipples with his thumbs.

Sousuke groans softly into Makoto’s mouth, pushing through his lips with his tongue to initiate a deeper kiss. Tingles run up and down Makoto’s body. He responds eagerly, cupping Sousuke’s face in his hands.

“Mm. I can’t get the buttons open,” Sousuke laughs softly, pulling away to look down at Makoto’s shirt and fumbling with the buttons.

“Ah, yeah, this shirt is kind of a pain because the button holes are too small,” Makoto babbles. He sits back, perching on Sousuke’s thighs for a moment as he pops open the buttons one by one. Sousuke watches him with dark eyes.

“Undershirt, too,” Sousuke murmurs once Makoto’s button-up has disappeared into one corner of the tent. Makoto swallows and lifts his white undershirt up and over his head. He casts it aside and lies down on top of Sousuke again, resuming their kiss. As their kisses get more and more heated, Sousuke’s breathing transforms into ragged pants. He moans softly, “Makoto.”

“A-Are you hard?” Makoto breathes. Sousuke bites his lip and gives a curt nod.

“I think something flipped a switch in me this morning,” he says. His voice is quivering. “It’s… yeah.”

Makoto nods and rolls off of Sousuke so he can undo his belt and open his pants. Sousuke laughs when his legs get tangled, but is quick to go silent again when he sees the bulge in Makoto’s briefs.

“Want me to take my pants off?” Sousuke asks. Makoto shakes his head, moving to work on unbuckling Sousuke’s belt.

“I got it.”

“What a gentleman,” Sousuke snickers, but he gasps and arches slightly as the teeth of his zipper brush against the tent in his boxers. “ _Easy_. Easy.”

“Sorry,” Makoto whispers. He slides Sousuke’s pants down and off, then tugs his boxers off as well and tosses them aside. The sight of Sousuke’s naked body nearly has his mouth watering.

“Stunned speechless?” Sousuke teases, flashing him a smirk.

“Yeah,” Makoto sighs. Sousuke blinks, momentarily floored as Makoto moves to get on top of him again. Makoto lowers his head and breathes into his ear, “You’re really beautiful, Sousuke.”

“Holy shit,” Sousuke says, his voice nearly a whimper as his hips shift. “Can… can you like… _not_ do that? Maybe.”

Makoto nuzzles against Sousuke’s cheek, which is a lot hotter than normal, the skin painted bright red. Makoto spares Sousuke the embarrassment and doesn’t say anything more. Instead, he communicates his admiration for Sousuke’s body through his hands. Under normal circumstances, Makoto really wouldn’t be able to control himself, but now that the tables are flipped and he’s the one who is expected to set the pace, he feels strangely calm.

Sousuke lets out an unexpectedly high-pitched moan when Makoto runs the blunt of his nails over his biceps.

“Can you hurry up and stop doing that?” Sousuke asks, covering his eyes with the back of his wrist. His face is redder than Makoto has ever seen it. “This is a lot more humiliating than I thought it’d be.”

“You don’t have to be embarrassed about your voice,” Makoto murmurs encouragingly. He continues to pet Sousuke, occasionally using his nails and making Sousuke’s lips fall open and his body tense.

“That’s not it,” Sousuke pants. “I’m _seriously_ going to c-cum from this if you don’t stop.”

“Oh. Sorry,” Makoto apologizes. He pulls his hand away and watches as Sousuke lies there, writhing on top of the blankets. He clutches a pillow and pulls it close to him, almost clinging to it like a life line.

“Just… take that off while I cool down a little,” Sousuke huffs, pointing at Makoto’s briefs. Makoto swallows and shuffles away from Sousuke to take them off. When they’ve landed among Makoto’s other clothes, they’re both fully naked and it takes a minute for it to sink in.

“Are… are you okay?” Makoto asks shyly. Sousuke nods, his eyes shut tight.

“I’m good. Uh… get the lube. And the condoms,” Sousuke says. Makoto does what he’s told and pulls his backpack close. He digs out the three condom boxes and the bottle of lubricant. Sousuke licks his lips. “Do you want me to blow you? Because if you do, I want to do it before you put a condom on. And definitely before the lube.”

“I don’t think I’d be able to last a minute,” Makoto admits. Sousuke stares at him and nods.

“…I see.”

“Should I put a condom on first?”

“Uh… yeah, let’s get that figured out before things get too hot,” Sousuke says. He grabs one of the boxes and absently touches himself as he reads it in the dim light. “I think these are the large ones.”

“I have the extra-large ones,” Makoto says. “I’ll try one of these on first.”

Sousuke drops his arm on his chest and starts laughing. Out of reflex, Makoto laughs, too.

“Cocky, aren’t you?” Sousuke asks. “Pinch the tip before you put it on.”

“O-Okay," Makoto stammers. He unwraps a condom with shaking hands, struggling with the package before pulling it out. “Uh… do I unroll this?”

“No. Pinch the tip, put it right on the head of your dick, and roll it down,” Sousuke instructs. Makoto frowns.

“How do you know all this?”

“Rin doesn’t shut the fuck up about sex half the time. You’d be really surprised.”

“Oh my god,” Makoto laughs. His laugh becomes a hiss as he rolls the condom down onto his cock. He trembles. “It’s… really too tight.”

“That’s tight on you?” Sousuke asks incredulously. “Christ. Okay, I hope you got a box of extra, _extra_ larges.”

“It’s not even that big,” Makoto laments, carefully inching the condom back off again.

“Well, condoms usually run pretty small here anyway,” Sousuke says. “That’s what Rin said. He said condoms run bigger in Australia. Actually, he said that _everything’s_ bigger in Australia.”

“Please stop talking about Rin,” Makoto whines as he opens the box of XXLs.

“Sorry,” Sousuke says. He gulps as he watches Makoto roll another condom onto his cock. “…I’m nervous.”

Makoto looks up at Sousuke’s words. He’s looking stubbornly away, lips pinched tightly together and his blush spreading all the way down to his chest.

“You’re so cute,” Makoto sighs. Sousuke clenches his fists.

“Shut your damn mouth. Just hurry.”

The XXL fits much better. It’s still pretty snug, but not uncomfortably so. Once it’s on, Makoto grabs the bottle of lubricant and opens it.

“So now I just…?” Makoto asks slowly. Sousuke nods and Makoto moves in between his legs. “Um… can you spread your legs more?”

Sousuke lets out a shaky exhale and opens his legs, bringing his knees up and back. He hooks his fingers under his thighs to keep them apart.

“Ah, wait… hold on. Put some pillows underneath me,” Sousuke says. Makoto nods and grabs a few pillows. Sousuke lifts his hips and puts them down again once two pillows are placed underneath him.

“Why?” Makoto asks.

“Support so I don’t wake up tomorrow with a sore back,” Sousuke explains. “And so you don’t have to move at a weird angle.”

Makoto wonders if Sousuke has been doing a lot of research on this, but he doesn’t voice this thought out loud. Instead, he pours a liberal amount of lube onto his first two fingers. Sousuke flinches when Makoto smooths the lubricant over his hole and gently massages it in.

Fingering Sousuke is a slow process, requiring all of Makoto’s concentration. At least, that’s what it feels like. He has a lot of distractions. His cock hangs heavily and achingly hard between his legs, giving the occasional twitch. Meanwhile, a variety of interesting sounds are leaving Sousuke’s mouth as Makoto very gently works him open.

“More,” Sousuke breathes when two fingers are in. Makoto looks up, alarmed. Sousuke just gives him a trembling smile. “Y-You won’t break me. More lube.”

“It doesn’t hurt?” Makoto asks as he pours more lube onto his fingers and pushes them into Sousuke. Sousuke shakes his head.

“You’re doing so well,” he whispers. Makoto curls his fingers and Sousuke gasps sharply, his hips shifting downwards onto Makoto’s fingers. “You’re c-close to it. Real close.”

“Your…?”

“Yeah. It’s… up a little. Right behind my dick,” Sousuke pants. Makoto runs his fingers up and down, searching for his prostate. He knows he finds it when Sousuke tenses around him and his toes curl. “Th-That’s it. Right there. _Fuck_.”

“Does it feel good?” Makoto asks.

“Find a-a rhythm. I like it when… f-fingers are curled against it. A little fast. Don’t hit it too hard. You don’t have to take your fingers out. Just curl.”

When Makoto does as he’s told, Sousuke melts on the blankets, soft moans falling from his lips as he lets Makoto finger him. When his grip loosens a little on his legs, Makoto grabs his thigh and pushes it back, making Sousuke let out a cry and throw his head back.

“Ah, ah! Okay, okay, stop!” Sousuke gasps, squirming. Makoto halts and Sousuke struggles to catch his breath.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No. God no. I was just… I’m barely holding on right n-now,” Sousuke admits. He runs a hand through his sweaty bangs and knots his fingers in his hair. “J-Just keep focusing on stretching me for now. I’ll cool down. Put another finger in.”

“Okay,” Makoto says. Biting his lip, he soaks his ring finger in lube and pushes it in along with the other two. Sousuke hisses this time, fingers digging into the pillow he’s holding on to. It’s much tighter with three fingers in. Sousuke takes deep, shaking breaths.

Makoto doesn’t know why, but he has the sudden impulse to pet Sousuke. He gently strokes Sousuke’s hip over and over, trailing his fingertips along his ass cheek and up his thigh, then back down again. Gradually, Sousuke calms and it’s much easier for Makoto to move his fingers. He scissors carefully, watching Sousuke’s face for pain, but there’s only mild discomfort there.

“…Put a fuck ton of lube on yourself and put it in,” Sousuke finally says. Makoto swallows hard and shifts, pressing up close to Sousuke and removing his fingers.

“Are you sure?”

“Y-Yeah.”

Wiping his fingers on a blanket, Makoto grabs the lube bottle once more and pours as much as his palm can hold into his hand. He slathers it over his cock, making a mess. When he’s thoroughly lubricated, he shuffles up closer and lines himself up with Sousuke’s hole.

“Um… you’re not as hard,” Makoto points out, eyeing Sousuke’s flagging erection.

“It’ll get hard again in a second,” Sousuke assures him. “Put it in.”

Makoto nods and slowly pushes, but gasps as his cock slips out of alignment and bumps into Sousuke’s balls. They both let out a surprised yelp before Makoto giggles nervously.

“Sorry. I slipped,” he whispers. Holding himself steadier, he lines himself up again and pushes.

Sousuke lets out a stuttered moan as he stretches to accommodate Makoto’s girth. Makoto doesn’t feel like he’s making much progress at first, but then he suddenly pops the head in.

“Oh fuck,” Sousuke curses, panting harshly and squirming. “I… M-Ma…koto.”

Makoto presses a little more, sinking deeper and deeper. Sousuke takes him inch by inch, his grunting turning into moans and sighs. Makoto can feel every breath he takes and every little flutter or clench of his body, which nearly pushes him over the edge.

Their hips finally connect and the noises coming out of Sousuke are absolutely beautiful. His falsetto voice is leaking through the groaning: soft, high-pitched sighs and whimpers that go straight to Makoto’s cock and make him want to thrust.

“Does it hurt?” Makoto asks. Sousuke pauses and shakes his head.

“N-No. It feels… I just feel… full,” he gasps between shallow breaths. “It’s… I don’t know.”

Sousuke rolls his head to the side, eyes watering and his expression looking lost and confused. Makoto starts to inch his hips back before pushing back in, making Sousuke moan softly.

“Can I move?” Makoto asks. Sousuke nods clumsily and gestures for Makoto to come closer. Makoto falls forward, bracing himself with his hands planted on either side of Sousuke’s rib cage. With nothing else to hold onto, Sousuke grabs onto Makoto’s elbows. Makoto moves slowly, not wanting to set himself off too soon. By the third thrust, he knows he won’t be able to last long at all.

“ _Makoto_ ,” Sousuke whispers. Makoto looks down, thinking Sousuke is trying to tell him something, but Sousuke’s face is turned away, lips parted and eyes shut. Realizing he was saying his name just for the sake of saying it, Makoto smiles and leans down to press a kiss to his chest.

“You’re so beautiful, Sousuke,” Makoto says, but his voice falters. He grits his teeth and arches his back, hips trembling as he presses up against Sousuke. “I c-can’t… I’m sorry, s-sorry, I really…”

Makoto shakily pulls back, only to abruptly snap forward again. He sobs and Sousuke yelps with the sudden movement, digging his nails into Makoto’s skin.

“Do that again,” Sousuke pants, but Makoto shakes his head.

“I can’t hold it,” Makoto mewls. “I-I’m really sorry, I--”

“Quit apologizing,” Sousuke grunts, shifting on the blankets and making Makoto moan with his movements. “D-Did you really think y-you’d be a master your first t-time? Just cum. Use me.”

“I’m sorry,” Makoto repeats, moving back to grab Sousuke’s sweating thighs and holding them tight. “I’m really sorry.”

“I told you to stop--”

Sousuke lets out another cry as Makoto pulls partly out and slams into him. He digs his fingers into Sousuke’s thighs sharp enough to leave bruises and pounds into him hard for a grand total of ten seconds before he’s throwing his head back and crying out with his release. His voice is loud and shrill and ends in a sharp sob.

“I’m sorry,” Makoto apologizes again, tears clinging to the edges of his eyes and threatening to fall. Sousuke groans as Makoto bucks his hips in the aftershocks. “That was terrible, I really… I couldn’t… handle…”

“Relax,” Sousuke whispers, letting Makoto hug his thigh and rain kisses down on his knee. “I don’t know what sort of porn you’ve been watching, but I really wasn’t expecting anything mind-blowing.”

“I’ll get better,” Makoto promises, sniffling. “I promise.”

“Okay, yeah, I’ll hold you to that promise, but can you _please_ finish me off,” Sousuke begs, hips wriggling. Makoto looks down at his cock, still rock hard and leaking all over his stomach. Sousuke grimaces.

“What do you want me to do?” Makoto asks.

“Fingers.”

Makoto bite his lips and very slowly pulls out, making both of them gasp. He replaces his cock with his first two fingers and starts curling. Sousuke rides his fingers desperately, eyes rolling back. When Makoto reaches for his cock, Sousuke slaps him away.

“I can cum from this, I c-can—I’m… holy shit,” Sousuke chokes. He moves his hips frantically against Makoto’s fingers. “Fuck, _faster!_ ”

Makoto obeys, curling his fingers as fast as he can while Sousuke’s body undulates on the blankets, his chest heaving and his abs clenching. To see someone this strong and stoic being unraveled and broken down to his core nearly has Makoto hard again, but his hand is starting to cramp up. He prays that Sousuke finishes soon, but he doesn’t have to wait for long.

Sousuke’s voice rises rapidly into a shriek of ecstasy when he cums, his entire body arching and his asshole clamping up around Makoto’s fingers. Semen spatters all over his belly, a few shots even landing on his chest. The sheer amount of it is amazing to watch; it’s obviously been building up for a ridiculously long time.

It seems like an eternity before it ends. Sousuke flops down onto the blanket, limp and powerless. When his breathing calms, Makoto wonders if he fell asleep, but then his eyes slowly open.

“Am I dead?” Sousuke asks. Makoto, shocked, bursts into laughter and crawls over Sousuke’s body to kiss him. Sousuke protests weakly, “Mm. Too sensitive.”

“Sorry,” Makoto breathes. He rolls onto his side and props his head up on his hand. “You can cum just by being fingered?”

Sousuke shuts his eyes and smirks, resting.

“I discovered it a long time ago back when you were the star in my wet dreams,” he chuckles. “Honestly, we should’ve tried assplay sooner. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.”

“Well… um… how did it feel?” Makoto asks shyly. Sousuke cracks open an eye.

“What, the sex?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm… we’re both virgins,” Sousuke says. He pauses and grins. “Well, we _were_. I don’t have anything to compare it to. But I think with practice… maybe a bit of training with stamina… we could be having _amazing_ sex.”

Sousuke rolls onto his side, scooting away from the sweaty part of the blankets and closer to Makoto.

“But I thought it was great,” he says softly. He touches his forehead to Makoto’s. “Was it what you wanted?”

“Well… I wish I hadn’t finished so quickly like a complete idiot,” Makoto laments. Sousuke laughs.

“Don’t beat yourself up so much. What matters is that it happened, and it happened with you. Now… I think we should clean up. And that ocean sure sounds tempting.”

They go silent, listening to the waves.

“…We shouldn’t swim at night,” Makoto says after a moment, his voice small and fearful.

“I won’t let go of your hand for one second,” Sousuke murmurs into his ear, holding him by the waist. “I promise. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“Don’t let go of my hand.”

“I said I promise.”

Still feeling reluctant, Makoto lets Sousuke pull him out of the tent. It’s much cooler outside than it is in the tent. Like Sousuke said, the ocean looks and sounds enticing. It’s almost completely still, the waves lapping gently at the shore. Sousuke stands and offers Makoto his hand, but pauses when he looks down.

“You forgot to take the condom off,” he laughs. Makoto blushes and scrambles to take off the condom. He awkwardly drops it in the sand just outside the tent and kicks more sand over it, promising himself he’ll pick it up when they leave the beach.

“Just for a little bit,” Makoto says, letting Sousuke take his hand and lead him towards the shore.

“Yeah,” Sousuke agrees. “I just want to wash off. I don’t know if you know this, but having a wet asshole feels kind of gross.”

Makoto laughs as they wade into the water together. It’s a little chilly, but Makoto doesn’t have time to adjust before Sousuke kneels down in the sand and pulls Makoto down with him, submerging their bodies up to their chests.

“See? Isn’t this nice?” Sousuke asks.

“Y-Yeah. Just don’t let go.”

“I won’t.”

Makoto rests his head against Sousuke’s shoulder, listening to the sounds of the ocean. Meanwhile, Sousuke works to clean himself off.

“That’s better,” Sousuke says when he finishes. They remain there for a moment, staying still as the weak tide tries to move them.

“I’m so glad I found you,” Makoto finally says. He presses a kiss to the scar on Sousuke’s right shoulder. “I really didn’t think I’d ever find a relationship.”

“Bullshit. You’re the stuff of every rational person’s fantasy. Actually, you’re probably an angel,” Sousuke says. He stops and clears his throat. “…Or something like that.”

“I’m not an angel,” Makoto giggles.

“Neither am I, but here I am, with you.”

Makoto lifts his head to get a good look at Sousuke’s face. There’s vulnerability there, and maybe just a hint of anxiety, too. Makoto smiles, overjoyed by his sentiment, and reaches up to touch his face.

“I’d marry you,” Makoto says before he can catch himself. Sousuke’s eyebrows rise as Makoto withdraws his hand, suddenly timid. “Ah, sorry. That was probably weird.”

“The more time I spend with you, the less stupid marriage seems to me,” Sousuke says, ignoring Makoto’s shyness. His eyes are so serious, Makoto can barely look. “It still feels like something I can’t accomplish. And maybe I never will. But when I look at you I see…”

Sousuke stops and shuts his mouth. He looks up at the stars, then back down again, getting increasingly frustrated.

“Sorry, I’m _really_ trying not to sound like a vapid douchebag with an acoustic guitar in a coffee shop right now.”

“No, say it,” Makoto pleads. Sousuke heaves a sigh. “What do you see when you look at me?”

Sousuke swallows hard and looks down. He murmurs something, and Makoto can’t quite catch it.

“I didn’t hear it,” Makoto says gently. Sousuke doesn’t look up.

“The future.”

Makoto blinks at Sousuke’s words. He looks up to meet Makoto’s gaze, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“I see the future,” he repeats. “As stupid as that sounds.”

“It’s not stupid,” Makoto says. His voice cracks. “That makes me happier than you think.”

“I can feel you shaking. Are you cold?”

“The opposite.”

A breeze suddenly blows through, chilling Makoto’s wet body. He tenses.

“Okay, _now_ I’m cold, let’s get out,” he says quickly. Sousuke, apparently still too embarrassed to laugh, stands mutely and pulls Makoto out of the ocean. Luckily, they brought a towel, which Sousuke grabs from the tent. He wraps it around Makoto first.

“Sorry, we stayed in too long,” Sousuke says, rubbing vigorously. Makoto just grins, lost in bliss. “Are you warming up?”

“Mhm.”

“Good,” Sousuke says. Makoto watches his face. His cheeks are pink.

“I see it, too,” Makoto whispers. Sousuke stops and looks up at Makoto, his lips parting. Makoto smiles, reaching up to cup Sousuke’s face. “The future.”

Sousuke drops the towel and puts his hands over Makoto’s, holding them tight and squeezing his eyes shut. He’s shaking. When his eyes open again, they’re swimming and full of reverence. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but shuts it again and doesn’t say a word.

“Does it still sound stupid?” Makoto asks. Sousuke shakes his head.

“No. Not when you say it.”

\---

On the day of Makoto and Sousuke’s flight back to Tokyo, there are a lot of tears from the twins. Makoto nearly cries himself, mostly because the sight of his little siblings clinging to Sousuke and sobbing is so heartbreaking. The twins ask why, _why_ are Sou-nii and Onii-chan leaving so soon? And the only answer Sousuke and Makoto can give is that they need to learn more so they can come back again smarter than before.

When the waterworks are over and the luggage is packed, Sousuke calls for everyone to take a seat in the living room. Not even Makoto knows what the meeting is for, and he sits down in the armchair while his family takes the couch. Sousuke stands before them, looking nervous and almost irritated.

“I wanted to thank everyone for allowing me to stay here over the summer. I had fun. And I was happy to work with Makoto, and go to Obon with the twins. I had a good time talking about fishing, Junpei-san, and I’m looking forward to when we can go ice fishing, like you said. Kimiko-san, I’m pretty sure I gained ten pounds while I was here, so thank you for that.”

Kimiko laughs.

“A growing boy has to eat,” she says. Sousuke smirks a little, but his face becomes serious once more.

“…I made something, for the twins,” Sousuke announces, his voice strained. Clearing his throat, he goes to his backpack and unzips the first pocket. He pulls out a CD case. Returning to the front, Sousuke holds it up. _Lullabies for the Brats_ is written on the front. “…Jeez. Okay, so I heard the twins had problems sleeping, so I kinda… made them this. It’s just me singing. Sorry if my voice isn’t gentle enough or… whatever. But I’ve heard that I have a nice voice and that I should sing more often. So I made this.”

“Sousuke-kun,” Kimiko whispers, hands over her mouth. Junpei smiles.

“That’s very generous of you,” he says. Meanwhile, Makoto stares with his mouth wide open.

“…When did you do this?” he asks. Sousuke shrugs.

“Whenever I had time. While you were in the bath, or when you were sleeping. Whenever our work schedules didn’t line up,” Sousuke lists. “I recorded it on my laptop. The microphone is pretty decent, so it sounds good.”

“Do I get to listen to it?” Makoto asks. Sousuke blushes furiously, his expression quickly becoming a scowl.

“ _No!_ It’s for the twins!” he snaps. Junpei and Kimiko laugh while Ran and Ren jump up from the couch and run to Sousuke, embracing him. Sousuke stumbles slightly, flustered. “I… honestly.”

He pats their heads and hands the CD case to Ran, who squeals as she hops up and down with it.

“No fair, I wanna hold it!” Ren protests. Sousuke crosses his arms, still blushing, and waits for the twins to run off to their room before speaking again.

“And… one more thing. I felt like it was rude not to do this before, so I’ll do it now,” Sousuke says. He takes a deep breath and points to Makoto. “I love your son.”

Junpei and Kimiko blink, shocked by the outburst. Makoto clutches the armrests of his chair, tensing and slowly turning beet red.

“He’s quickly becoming one of the most important things in my life. And before I met you guys, I was dead set on staying with him regardless of whether you liked it or not. But I really… have come to respect you guys. And I want to ask officially,” Sousuke says. He bows low. “Please allow me to take care of Makoto!”

“Oh my _god_ ,” Makoto squeaks, slapping his hands over his face and pulling his knees up against his chest to hide himself. “Sousuke, I can’t _believe_ \--”

“For a second I thought he was going to ask for Makoto’s hand,” Kimiko says into Junpei’s ear, a sly look on her face as she giggles. Junpei laughs softly.

“Don’t be so hard on him, dear, he’s trying so hard.”

“Can someone just kill me right now? Just chop my head off. Please,” Sousuke groans, still bent over in a bow. Kimiko laughs as Junpei sighs and stands. He goes to Sousuke and puts his hand on his shoulder. Sousuke straightens, so red-faced that Makoto can almost feel the heat of his blush from where he’s sitting.

“We appreciate your dedication to Makoto, and we’re happy to see you’re so serious about him,” Junpei laughs. “But there’s really no need to be so dramatic. Who Makoto loves is up to him, not us. And if you love him, and he loves you, then there’s really nothing more we can ask for. He’s a lucky boy, to have someone like you. You don’t have to be sorry for not ‘asking’ us for Makoto. You never had to ask us at all. Our only condition is that you make him happy, and so far you have done nothing _but_ that. But if it means that much to you, you have our blessing to date him.”

Sousuke pinches his lips together and nods.

“Thank you,” he says quietly. Junpei smacks his shoulder.

“Now, you two should go, or you’ll be late for your flight.”

Makoto glances at his watch—they’re running very late. He jumps to his feet and scrambles to pick up his luggage from the floor. Kimiko stands and brings Makoto into a big hug.

“Do your best!” she says. She pulls Makoto down for a big kiss on the cheek. “Make us proud!”

Kimiko goes to Sousuke next, embracing him and also bringing him down for a big smooch on the cheek.

“You too!”

“…S-Sure, Kimiko-san.”

After goodbyes are said and another round of tears are shed by the twins, Makoto and Sousuke hit the stone staircase running.

“If we miss… the flight, we’ll be… stuck in Iwatobi… for another three hours!” Makoto says breathlessly.

“I’m not spending… another second… with your… crazy family!” Sousuke pants, speeding up. Makoto laughs and Sousuke grabs his hand, hurrying him along. The moment they’re on ground level, they break into a sprint. It’s hot and sticky out, and the air is so thick it’s hard to breathe, but they run anyway.

“I love… you, Sousuke!” Makoto giggles, unable to help himself. Sousuke squeezes his hand.

“Don’t make… declarations… of love to me… while we’re… fucking… _running!_ ”

“I really… love you!”

“ _Jeez!_ ”

**END OF PART TWO**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *as you can see i am a sucker for X-TREME CHEESE  
> **i fully expect 'THEIR FIRST TIME WAS FUCKING IN-TENTS' jokes in the fefsky tag  
> ***Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friend [Diana.](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com)
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELCOME BACK!
> 
> So this week, my accomplices and I have been very busy to bring to you.......... (drumroll, please)
> 
> THE OFFICIAL COVER ART AND FEFSKY ALBUM!!!!
> 
> The cover art has been in the making since around the end of part one. As many of you know, one of the main artistic faces of FEFSKY is none other than [Lexy](https://tatsudai.tumblr.com), and she has been working long and hard for weeks to put together the official cover art for FEFSKY. This coverart can be found [here](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/coverart), so make sure you take a look and REBLOG! Also, it has been posted here, on AO3, at the beginning of the first chapter. 
> 
> The FEFSKY album, titled 'Something I Need', is comprised of ten tracks (+1 bonus track). Special thanks to my friend [Gabi](https://freedomconvicted.tumblr.com), who drew the album art. You can listen to the mix [here](http://8tracks.com/porrimicide/something-i-need)!
> 
> Go on and give it a listen!

**INTERMISSION TWO**

**AUGUST, 2015**

“Hm… what’s that smell?”

“Sato-san, _please_ \--”

“No, really! I can smell it on you… especially--”

“Fuyumi, I swear to _fuck_ , I’ll rip that bun right off your stupid head.”

“Mmm… smells kinda like vanilla…”

“Piss off!”

“Oh, but you smell so good, Sousuke-kun. What could that scent be…? Oh, I know what it is. You two _finally_ had sex!”

“Sato-san!”

“I knew it! _I knew it!_ I’m going to bake a cake!”

“ _Sato-san!_ ” “ _Fuyumi!_ ”

 

**SEPTEMBER, 2015**

“Ohhh… _fuck_ …”

Makoto looks up through the slight fogginess of his glasses. Sousuke’s eyes are closed and his lips are hanging open, a faint blush on his cheeks as he tangles his fingers in Makoto’s hair. They’re in the living room of Sousuke’s apartment, their dirty dishes still laid out on the table. Makoto has Sousuke sitting on the couch, hands holding his thighs open as he sucks him down to the root and swallows around him. Sousuke clenches his teeth and throws his head back, hips trembling with the effort not to thrust.

“H-How the _fuck_ are you doing… doing that?” Sousuke manages to choke out. He presses himself against the back of the couch, squirming helplessly. Makoto doesn’t answer and continues to suck. Sousuke is heavy against his tongue: thick, hard, bitter but not unbearable. Makoto quite likes the taste of him.

“Mmn,” Makoto hums. Sousuke lets out a string of curses and arches, his fingers leaving Makoto’s hair and instead tangling into his own. Makoto takes him effortlessly into his throat and lets him stay there until he starts feeling like he's going to gag. He pulls back to swallow the drool and precum collecting in his mouth, takes a breath, and sinks back down.

“How the fuck. _What_ the fuck. Wha--” Sousuke chants as Makoto deepthroats him again. Makoto nuzzles his pubic hair and slathers his tongue along the underside of his shaft. He squeezes his eyes shut and feels Sousuke’s hands on either side of his hollowed-out cheeks. Above, Sousuke convulses and lets out a sound that starts as a whimper and ends in a sharp yell. Makoto’s fingers dig into Sousuke’s thighs as his release spills into his mouth. As he pulls back, it covers his tongue. The final spurt lands on his bottom lip and drips down his chin.

Sousuke stares down at him, wide-eyed. He makes a face when Makoto swallows.

“You… didn’t have to swallow,” he pants. Makoto licks his lips and fixes his glasses.

“I wanted to,” Makoto says simply. Sousuke shakes his head in disbelief, his dark gaze transfixed on Makoto’s face.

“Where did you _learn_ that?” he asks. Makoto slowly grins.

“I was doing research, ‘cuz I knew I wanted to do this for your birthday,” Makoto explains. “And… well, it turns out I already don’t have much of a gag reflex. And then… well, I read that if you squeeze your thumb in your fist like _this_ , it suppresses it even more.”

Makoto shows Sousuke his clenched fist. Sousuke nods dumbly, still looking a bit dazed.

“God, that was so fucking hot,” Sousuke groans. He tips his head back against the couch. “I already liked your mouth, and now I like it even more.”

Makoto smiles wide and moves to stand, pressing his tongue to his upper lip as he hooks his arms under Sousuke’s legs and kneels between them. He grinds his erection against Sousuke through his jeans, making both of them moan.

“Can I?” Makoto asks. Sousuke swallows and nods.

“Hell yeah,” he hisses. “Kiss me first.”

“But I just—”

“Don’t care. _Kiss me._ ”

Makoto whines but obeys anyway, leaning in to kiss Sousuke’s lips. Sousuke kisses back with enthusiasm, hands tangling in Makoto’s hair. He drags them down so they’re lying on the couch with Makoto lying between his legs. When Makoto pulls away, Sousuke smirks and drops his arms above his head, letting Makoto feverishly open the buttons of his shirt.

“Is my birthday present a good, hard fuck?” Sousuke teases. Makoto flushes bright red.

“D-Don’t say something so--”

“It’s my birthday. I can do whatever the hell I want. Just tell me what you’re going to give me. I want to hear you say it.”

Makoto whimpers, fingers fumbling Sousuke’s shirt buttons until he can’t hold them anymore. He covers his eyes with his wrist, too humiliated to even look Sousuke in the eye.

“Tell me you’re going to fuck me hard.”

“I’m…” Makoto begins. He opens and closes his mouth; he can’t say it. Yet his cock strains even harder against his jeans. Finally, Makoto heaves a sigh and leans down, hands planted on either side of Sousuke’s head. “I-I’m going to do it really slow. And gentle.”

A look of slight panic crosses Sousuke’s face and he laughs nervously.

“That’s…” he trails off. Makoto gives him a slow roll of his hips, smiling as Sousuke’s lips fall open and his head tilts back. Sousuke whispers, “Why?”

Makoto tries to put on a confident face, but his voice shakes as he whispers in Sousuke’s ear.

“P-Punishment for… for embarrassing m-me. Turn over, please.”

 

**OCTOBER, 2015**

“Haru… I wanted to talk,” Makoto mumbles. He’s sitting on a stool in the bathroom while Haru soaks in a coldwater bath. Haru, who has been completely silent this whole time, glances at Makoto before dunking his head underwater. Makoto groans and moves away from the water that overflows out of the tub. As he watches it disappear through the drain in the middle of the bathroom, he frowns. “You’re really filling these baths too full, Haru.”

Makoto turns back to the tub as Haru resurfaces and stares blankly at the water between his knees.

“What do you want to talk about?” Haru asks flatly. Makoto fidgets.

“Um… Rin told me you have a shot at the Olympics. And I thought I’d wait until you were ready to tell me, but then… August came and went… and then September, too. And you still didn’t tell me. And I wanted to know if you’re mad at me,” his voice falters and he wrings his hands.

“Not particularly,” Haru replies curtly. Makoto frowns as Haru pokes at the dolphin toy floating in the water. An awkward silence settles heavily between them. Haru is the first to speak, “You were with Yamazaki. I didn’t want to bother you.”

Makoto’s lips part, but he shuts his mouth again. He looks down, feeling like he might cry.

“W-Well… getting into the Olympics is a big thing.”

“Not really,” Haru sighs. He pulls his dolphin toy underwater and holds it there before releasing it and letting it pop back up. “I don’t know if I’m actually going to the Olympics yet.”

“But _still_ ,” Makoto tries. Haru gives him a look.

“We don’t have to know every tiny detail about each other. I didn’t mean to offend you. I just didn’t want to bother you and Yamazaki.”

 “…Okay,” Makoto says. He tries to sound comforted, but he is anything but. He feels Haru’s gaze burning into the top of his head.

“You have a quiz tomorrow. You should be studying,” Haru mutters.

Something isn’t right here. His words are pushing Makoto away, but the expression on his face doesn’t match up. He looks lonely for a split second, but as soon as it’s there, it’s gone again.

“It’s fine, it can wait,” Makoto insists, but Haru just stares at him, unblinking. Now his eyes clearly say ‘leave me alone’. Makoto gives up and sighs, standing. “…Okay, Haru-chan.”

Calling him by the nickname is his final attempt to fix things. He hesitates slightly at the door, waiting for the familiar response. All he hears behind him is the sound of more water overflowing out of the tub as Haru dunks underwater.

 

**NOVEMBER, 2015**

“It’s really okay, Sousuke!”

“It’s not.”

Makoto laughs and pats Sousuke’s bare back. They’re in his bed, their hair messy and their clothes tossed all over the room. A used condom lies beside the wastebin.

“I finished really fast the first time I topped, too!” Makoto reminds him. Sousuke groans and buries his face in his pillow.

“But it’s your fucking birthday. I blew it. Literally.”

“I said it’s _fine_ ,” Makoto giggles. He pets Sousuke’s hair. “Are you really that upset?”

“Yes! I researched _everything!_ ” Sousuke barks. His muffled voice makes Makoto laugh even more.

“You sound kinda like Rei,” Makoto murmurs with a smile. “You’re so cute.”

“ _Shut your mouth!_ ”

“Sousuke, c’mon…” Makoto whispers. He leans down and kisses Sousuke’s shoulder, then begins to pepper kisses down his back. “Mmmn, Sousuke--”

“You’re not putting anything in my ass,” Sousuke deadpans. When Makoto looks up, Sousuke is glaring over his shoulder at him. “You wanted to be on the bottom for your birthday. You’re _going_ to bottom.”

“I wasn’t going to try and put anything in,” Makoto whines, but his little glances at Sousuke’s ass gives him away.

“You’re a shitty liar.”

“Um… there is something I really wanted to try,” Makoto says, his voice small. He looks down and fidgets. “I read somewhere that… it feels really… really good when you… well…”

“Spit it out,” Sousuke huffs. Makoto swallows and squirms.

“Well… when you use your t-tongue,” he stutters. “On…”

“…Are you talking about a rimming?” Sousuke asks. Makoto’s face burns. “…I see. I’ve read up on that, too. It seems a bit… kinky, don’t you think?”

“I _really_ want to do it,” Makoto whimpers. Sousuke sits up and purses his lips as he thinks. Makoto grows more and more embarrassed with every passing second.

“…Well… do you think you could maybe wash the lube off first? I mean… it’s not that I don’t want to, but my dick was just in there, so--”

“I don’t mean me!” Makoto blurts. Sousuke stares at him. “I… wanted to do it to _you_.”

Now it’s Sousuke’s turn to blush.

“Are you _kidding_ me?” he hisses.

“N-N-Never mind! I'm sorry!” Makoto wails, slapping his hands over his face. Sousuke goes silent for a long while. Makoto hears him shift on the bed, and only when he hears a soft groan does he uncover his eyes. Sousuke is on his stomach again, head buried in his folded arms.

“Whatever. It’s your birthday. Just do it,” he grumbles. Makoto perks up instantly.

“Really?!”

“Don’t sound so excited about licking my ass!”

“I can’t help it,” Makoto says, voice shaking and mouth watering as he positions himself between Sousuke’s legs and puts his hands on his hips. “P-Please lift your hips.”

Sousuke grunts and raises his ass. He clutches a pillow tight as his thighs tremble. To comfort him, Makoto runs his hands up and down his ass, kneading gently before spreading him with his thumbs. Unable to help himself, Makoto leans in and kisses his hole. Sousuke jumps.

“Holy _fuck_. Wow. Okay.”

“Is it really weird?” Makoto asks, already a little breathless. Sousuke hums and gives a little sway of his hips.

“Uh… a bit, yeah.”

“Can I keep going?”

“I guess. I can’t promise much, though,” Sousuke says. Makoto nods and licks his lips. He moves in again, pressing another kiss to his hole. And another. On the third, he gives a little experimental lick and immediately goes hazy-eyed. Sousuke’s ass cheeks tense on either side of Makoto’s face and spur him on more. He eats Sousuke slowly, thoroughly, his jaw and lips moving just as enthusiastically as his tongue.

Sousuke hasn’t made much noise, save for the occasional grunt, but he gasps when Makoto runs the flat of his tongue across his hole.

“Whoa,” Sousuke whispers, hips shifting. Makoto takes the movement as a signal to keep going and does it again, this time eliciting a soft moan from Sousuke’s lips. Now he's starting to rock up against Makoto’s lips and tongue. Makoto slides his hand between Sousuke’s legs and gently holds his cock, which has hardened again. He strokes Sousuke at a relaxed pace, making him gasp and quiver.

Sousuke melts when Makoto pushes his tongue inside of him. He wishes he were more dexterous with his tongue, or that his tongue was longer. Sousuke seems to enjoy it, however, if his nonstop shivering is anything to go by.

“Oh, _holy_ —ah, god, _mmnn_ , I’m--” Sousuke croaks. His hips are bucking too much for Makoto to keep his tongue inside anymore, so he pulls back and gently blows on the swollen, wet hole. Sousuke instantly tenses and cums with a yelp and a string of curses. Makoto pumps his cock through his orgasm, smiling as the semen dribbles over his fingers.

When it’s over, Sousuke flops down and pants into his pillow. Feeling warm and fuzzy, Makoto lies down beside him and snuggles up close.

“…That was… fucking _wild_ ,” Sousuke breathes. The absolutely astounded look on his face makes Makoto giggle. Sousuke’s voice cracks, “I hope you enjoyed that, because I don't think I can get it up again for another hour.”

“Yeah,” Makoto says. He bites his lip and grinds his erection up against Sousuke’s hip.

“It’s your birthday and you haven’t cum at all,” Sousuke groans. “And I came _twice_. God damn it.”

“Well… Sato-san bought me a toy for my birthday. It was embarrassing at first, but the more I think about it…” Makoto says timidly. Sousuke lifts his eyebrows.

“A toy? Like a dildo?”

Makoto tries and fails to hold back his grin. Sousuke gapes at him.

“No fucking way.”

“It’s in my backpack. Want to see it?”

“Hell _yeah_ I wanna see it.”

 

**DECEMBER, 2015**

“The snow is so beautiful,” Makoto sighs. As he and Sousuke walk through the campus courtyard on their way back from the gym, the snow falls silently in big flakes. The sidewalks are heated, cutting a path through the frozen ground.

“Yeah,” Sousuke agrees. Makoto looks over at him. The white snow is such a sharp, lovely contrast to his black hair and dark lashes. He can’t help but to let out a dreamy sigh. Sousuke glances at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” Makoto hums. He keeps walking, but Sousuke comes to a stop. Makoto turns to face him, confused. A little worried, he fidgets with the strap of his duffel bag. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Sousuke says. He takes a breath like he’s going to say something, but releases it. Vapor rises from his lips, and it’s strangely beautiful. Makoto feels a pull from his gut, like he should go to Sousuke’s arms, but he resists the temptation and waits for him to speak. After a moment, Sousuke finally says, “I want you to move in with me.”

Makoto blinks, stunned.

“Huh?” he whispers. Sousuke shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Your RA has been asking if anyone has different living plans for the second half of winter semester, right? Tell her you’re moving in with me,” Sousuke mutters. Makoto swallows hard and looks down as Sousuke continues. “Look, half of your shit is already at my apartment. A toothbrush. Two sets of pajamas. One of your pillows. Even your favorite hoodie.”

“Some of your stuff is at my dorm, too,” Makoto points out weakly. Sousuke scoffs.

“Yeah, only one of my old English books and my Samezuka jacket. And I only gave you that jacket because you said you get cold in your history class, and that your hoodies were _too_ hot, but a long-sleeved shirt was _too_ cold and the jacket was _just_ —God, that’s not even the _point_ ,” Sousuke hisses. He steels himself, staring intensely at him. “I want you to live with me, Makoto.”

“That’s… that’s really nice, and I’m really happy for you to offer that,” Makoto whispers. He brings his hands to his chest and presses them over his pounding heart. “But I don’t want to impose.”

“Impose on who? Me? You won’t.”

“But Iwao-san pays for the apartment,” Makoto protests. “So it isn’t… it’s not your choice, is it?”

“He won't give a shit. Even if he does, I’ll move somewhere else,” Sousuke says. “I’ll get a part-time job and pay for it myself.”

“I wouldn't let you pay rent by yourself. I’d get a part-time job, too,” Makoto counters. Sousuke’s lips form a tight line. “I really don’t want to make anything harder for you.”

“It’s _already_ hard for me not having you around all the time,” Sousuke blurts. He hunches his shoulders and glowers at the ground. “I don’t want to be alone in that apartment anymore. I want you there, _always_. You’re… okay, well, you’re already there a lot. But it’s not enough.”

He looks up again, jaw set.

“Please. I’ll even live in the dorms as your roommate, if it comes to that. I don’t care. I hate coming home to an empty apartment. I’m… lonely.”

The hesitant yet raw emotion in his voice makes Makoto’s chest ache. He feels as though Sousuke has just handed him his heart—and the blade to cut it with.

 “If… if Iwao-san says it’s okay, I’ll move in with you,” Makoto finally says. Sousuke’s eyes light up. “I didn’t know you were that lonely.”

“I didn’t want to look weak,” Sousuke grumbles. Makoto huffs a sigh through his nose and smiles. It’s so hard to be exasperated with Sousuke when he looks like this. To anyone else, the look on his face would be terrifying. But to Makoto, it’s just a pout.

“Actually, I think it takes a very strong person to admit they’re lonely,” Makoto disagrees gently. “Especially to the person they love.”

“…Have you been feeling lonely, too?”

“Of course. My dorm room feels like a jail cell sometimes. It’s hard saying goodbye to you when you can’t get past the lobby because it’s past te--”

He can’t finish, because Sousuke takes three long strides forward and practically crashes into him, cupping the back of his head as they kiss. Makoto grips his arms and kisses him back, not caring if anyone sees. No one's around, anyway. 

“Sousuke, you’re cold,” Makoto whispers when they finally separate. He brushes his thumb over Sousuke's trembling lips. "You're shivering."

“I’m fucking freezing,” Sousuke says. Makoto laughs. “…And my shoulder aches.”

Makoto’s smile falls instantly.

“What?”

“My shoulder. It feels stiff.”

“It’s probably just because it’s cold,” Makoto says quickly, pulling away. Sousuke frowns as he reaches up to roll his shoulder, but Makoto snatches up his hand. “Don’t mess with it. Let’s go get you warmed up.”

“…Okay.”

 

**JANUARY, 2016**

“I’m home,” Makoto calls tiredly. He stomps the snow off his boots before he walks inside his and Sousuke’s apartment, then quickly shuts the door behind him to block out the biting cold.

It’s really warm in the apartment. Too warm.

Makoto checks the thermostat and groans. Sousuke cranked up the heat again. As he toes off his boots, Makoto lowers the heat a little and strips off his coat. Rubbing his cheeks to warm them up, he pads into the apartment to look for Sousuke.

He finds him standing in their bedroom in front of the mirror, shirtless. He’s watching himself as he does backwards elbow rolls with his right arm. Makoto frowns and crosses his arms, leaning against the doorframe as he watches.

“You need to go to the hospital,” he finally says. Sousuke lets his arm drop.

“How long have you been home?” he asks, not looking away from the mirror. Makoto sighs.

“Only for a minute. It’s happening again, isn’t it?”

“I don’t deserve this,” Sousuke whispers. He finally turns to Makoto, his face creased with agony. “I don’t fucking deserve this.”

“I know,” Makoto says. He doesn’t make a move to go to Sousuke, even though he desperately wants to. There’s a well of rage hidden under all of that sadness that needs to come out before he can touch him.

As expected, Sousuke suddenly lashes out, grabbing the first thing he can reach (a textbook on the bed) and hurling it at the wall. Makoto flinches as it hits and is thankful when it doesn’t do any damage.

Only when Sousuke sinks down onto the bed with his head in his hands does Makoto approach him. He sits down beside him and strokes his back as soothingly as he can manage.

“You have to see a doctor,” he presses. Sousuke groans.

“I know.”

“You should make an appointment right now.”

Sousuke doesn’t say anything.

“I’m serious,” Makoto says. He pulls his own phone from his pocket and shows it to Sousuke. “Right now.”

Sousuke curses and snatches the phone out of Makoto’s hand. He dials the number for the hospital. The fact that he knows it by heart makes Makoto sad. Wrapping his arms around Sousuke’s waist, he leans up against him.

“…Yeah, hi. I’d like to make an appointment,” Sousuke says. “Yamazaki Sousuke. Yeah, uh… it’s September 14, 1995.”

Makoto presses a kiss to Sousuke’s left shoulder and nuzzles against it.

“Yeah… yeah. I’m having shoulder pain again and I need to have it checked out. Yeah. Wait… uh, actually, I can’t do that day because I have an exam.”

Sousuke pinches the bridge of his nose. He looks way too exhausted for a twenty-year-old. Makoto snuggles him and cranes his neck to kiss his cheek. Sousuke offers him a tired smile and slips an arm around his waist.

“…Yeah, that works,” Sousuke says, absentmindedly playing with a lock of Makoto’s hair. “Yeah, got it. Thanks.”

Sousuke hangs up, letting out a long sigh. He gives Makoto’s phone back and immediately drops his head into his hands.

“February 5, at noon,” he announces. He falls back on the bed and drapes his arm over his eyes. “And I thought this shit was over.”

Makoto doesn’t say anything. He leans down so he can kiss Sousuke’s chin and rain kisses down on his jaw, sliding his lips lower to his neck. At his collarbone, he runs his tongue along the ridge of the bone. Before he can continue, Sousuke cards his fingers through Makoto’s hair and gently lifts his head.

“I’m not in the mood for pity sex."

“It’s not pity sex if I’m having a bad day, too,” Makoto says softly. Sousuke chuckles and strokes his cheek.

“Why’d you have a bad day?”

“I missed a group activity in kinesiology last week, and my professor said I can’t make it up,” Makoto sighs. Sousuke snorts.

“Is that the class you skipped on Tuesday because you thought there was a snow day?” he asks. Makoto nods. “Mmm. What else?”

“My notebook got wet from the snow because I accidentally left my backpack open while I was walking between my second and third period classes, and it made the ink run.”

“Wow. What a horrible day,” Sousuke teases. He smirks as Makoto smacks his arm. “Anything else?”

“I almost slipped and fell at the station, and then I came home to see you upset. So today really was a bad day,” Makoto complains. He buries his face in Sousuke’s chest. “…And besides, I wanted to have sex when I got home, anyway. It’s been almost two weeks.”

“Feeling neglected?” Sousuke asks, rolling over and pressing Makoto into the mattress. "A little comfort sex never hurt anyone."

“Not at all," Makoto agrees. Sousuke nips at his neck. “Mm. Can I be on the bottom today? I really want to not be in control for a while.”

“Funny you should say that,” Sousuke says. He pushes up Makoto’s sweater, cool hands roaming over his warm stomach.

“Hm?” Makoto hums. Sousuke pulls his sweater off completely and tosses it aside.

“I want to be in control of everything right now.”

 

**FEBRUARY, 2016**

“Well, Yamazaki-san, it sounds to me like you’re experiencing some arthritic episodes that may or may not get worse over time.”

“Arthritic… like arthritis?”

“Correct.”

Makoto frowns, looking over at Sousuke. He's perched on the edge of the examination table, looking absolutely miserable. His doctor sits across from him, her laptop open in front of her. Makoto almost resents her for looking so nonchalant about this—doesn’t she see how upset Sousuke is?

“Why did I get arthritis if I already had this fixed?” Sousuke asks.

“You’ve always had arthritis, actually. Unfortunately, it chooses when to rear its ugly head. All this cold weather makes it worse. What you can do is start taking medication. And you’ll want to start wearing your shoulder brace again,” the doctor says. Sousuke starts to tremble, furious. “If the pain worsens, there are other options. Physical therapy, seeing a chiropractor, perhaps even acupuncture. Of course, if none of these work, it’s possible you’ll have to have a second surg--”

“ _No!_ ” Sousuke barks. Makoto jumps at the volume of his voice. “I was under the impression that this was all _over!_ The first surgery was supposed to _fix_ this problem, not push it away for a while! I did _everything_ I was told to do; I was in that fucking sling for almost an _entire year!_ ”

“Yamazaki-san, please,” the doctor says sternly as Sousuke pants. Makoto stands, recognizing the warning signs of an anxiety attack. The doctor continues in a gentler voice, “A second surgery is the worst case scenario—only if you suffer a complete relapse. And it wouldn't be as big or physically taxing as your first. Like I said, there is medication you can take to ease the pain. And there is medication that won’t interfere with your current prescription.”

“So this shit will _never_ stop?” Sousuke hisses. He takes a shivering breath, muscles tensing. The doctor pinches her lips together.

“…It’s possible that your injury will affect you for the rest of your life, yes,” she says quietly. “I’m very sorry, Yamazaki-san. I know it is a great source of anxiety for you.”

Sousuke sways and drops his forehead into his palm. His fingers tangle in his hair and he starts to pull. Stepping forward, Makoto very carefully pries his fingers away from his hair to prevent him from ripping it out during his attack. He pulls Sousuke’s head to his shoulder, cradling it.

“Would you like a few minutes?” the doctor asks. Makoto nods mutely and she leaves the room. The second she’s gone, Sousuke sucks in a ragged, choked breath. Makoto rocks him, holding one of Sousuke’s hands to his chest and taking deep breaths to help regulate his breathing.

The attack is relatively mild, which is both relieving and concerning. Makoto wonders if it’s so small because Sousuke has resigned himself to his fate of having unending reminders of his mistakes as a reckless child. The thought makes his throat tighten.

Makoto holds him through all nine and a half minutes of the attack. When it’s over, Sousuke just looks sleepy and upset. His eyes are damp, but tears don’t fall.

“Sorry,” Sousuke whispers, eyes downcast. Makoto kisses Sousuke’s forehead.

“It’s okay,” he assures him.

“You must think I’m an idiot, getting so upset over this,” Sousuke says. Makoto takes his face in his hands, forcing him to meet his gaze.

“No. I don’t think that at all,” Makoto insists. “You’re letting the anxiety talk.”

“You’re sure you’re not tired of this?”

“I’m sure.”

“You still love me?”

“Of course I do.”

“You’re absolutely sure?” Sousuke asks again. Makoto nods.

“I’m one hundred percent, absolutely, completely sure that I love you.”

Sousuke takes a deep breath and shuts his eyes. When he opens his eyes once more, they’ve cleared.

“Thanks,” he mumbles. Makoto smiles and presses their foreheads together.

“Mhm! Are you going to be okay?”

“I think so,” Sousuke says. Makoto pulls away from him and holds his face in his cupped hands.

“I’m going to get the doctor. She’ll prescribe some new medication for you, and it’ll be fine.”

Sousuke nods once.

“…Right.”

 

**MARCH, 2016**

When the cherry blossoms bloom, students all across campus take the opportunity to enjoy the first few days of warm weather since the beginning of the year. Makoto and Sousuke are among them, sitting beneath a cherry tree as they eat lunch. Sato is with them, raving about a vegetarian diet she’s trying. Makoto isn’t really listening, too busy combing his fingers through Sousuke’s hair as he snoozes in his lap.

Normally, he’d be embarrassed, but nobody bats an eye at them. Everyone’s too occupied with enjoying the weather to pay any mind to the gay couple and their eccentric friend. It makes Makoto feel safe, secure, and _wonderfully_ normal.

“I’m serious! C’mere, try it,” Sato says. Not paying attention, Makoto looks up just in time for Sato to shove something in his mouth. Makoto chokes, nearly spitting it back out again, but Sato smiles so widely at him that he forces himself to chew.

“Are you trying to kill my boyfriend?” Sousuke asks, his eyes still shut. He shifts in Makoto’s lap and snuggles into his stomach. “Don’t do that. I like having him around.”

Makoto swallows and chokes out a laugh, stroking Sousuke’s cheek with his knuckles.

“How did you like it?” Sato asks. Makoto hums, pondering.

“It was pretty good. What was it?”

“It was a mushroom and tofu potsticker. I made them myself.”

“You can make those?”

“Yeah!” Sato says. “It’s a lot easier now in the apartment. It sucks having a part-time job, though. I have, like, _no_ time to do stuff.”

Makoto gives her a sympathetic smile as she whines and flops down in the grass.

“I can’t believe I have to do a whole victory lap,” Sato sighs.

“You’ll graduate soon enough,” Makoto soothes. “It’s only two more semesters.”

“How have you two not changed your major even once?” Sato asks, puffing up her cheeks. Makoto shrugs.

“I don’t know! I’m really passionate about becoming a swim coach,” Makoto says. “Nothing has really given me problems. Why did you stop studying gender studies?”

“…I still really care about it,” Sato says. She frowns, looking up at the cherry blossoms. “But it boiled down to just one class, really. It discouraged me so much from the major. The professor was horrible to me.”

“That’s too bad,” Makoto says. “I’ve never had a bad professor. I mean, some of them are hard graders, but never anyone bad.”

“…Well, just be careful, okay?”

“Why?”

Sato gestures to Makoto and Sousuke.

“Some professors on campus are not as accepting as you’d like.”

 

**APRIL, 2016**

“What are you looking at?”

Makoto blinks and shakes his head to tear his gaze from Haru’s body.

“You’ve… really bulked up recently, is all. Your Olympic training regimen must be really intense,” Makoto comments. Haru huffs and continues to stir the soup on the stove. Makoto laughs, “I’m sorry! I can’t help but look when you’re only wearing an apron and a swimsuit. When are you going to stop that? You’re turning twenty-one soon.”

“Age doesn’t make it any less comfortable,” Haru sniffs. Makoto giggles and approaches the stove. He takes a big whiff of the miso soup and hums.

“It smells really good. When are we eating, Haru-chan?” Makoto asks.

“You eat too much. You’re like a dog,” Haru grumbles. “Just be patient, and don’t call me ‘-chan’!”

Makoto smiles widely, happy that things feel normal between him and Haru for once.

“You sound kinda like Sousuke when I bug him while he’s cooking,” Makoto chimes without thinking. Haru’s expression turns stony.

“…I see,” he says. The mood turns sour in an instant, so quick that it makes Makoto’s head spin.

“Oh, but…” Makoto starts.

“Is everything okay?” Haru asks quietly. Makoto’s brow furrows.

“What do you mean?”

“Is everything okay between you and Yamazaki?” Haru presses. Makoto blinks, confused.

“…What? Of course everything is okay. Why?”

“No reason,” Haru mumbles.

The conversation ends there, leaving Makoto feeling like he’s completely missing something.

 

**MAY, 2016**

Makoto returns from his bath. Sousuke’s cooking something and it smells delicious, so Makoto keeps the door to the bedroom open so he can continue enjoying the aroma spreading through the entire apartment. Flopping down on the bed, Makoto reaches for his phone on the nightstand. He’s got quite a few texts—all of them are from Rin.

_[ok. I didnt want to say anything because it wasnt my fuckin business and haru didnt want me to say anything. I have a bone to pick with you. and actually this is more about me trying to fix this before it gets out of hand. haru is fucking pissed. like not the kind of pissed that makes him yell. but hes been boiling and its been happening for a LONG time. and I wanted to warn you before things get messy. he calls me almost every night now and im sure his wallet doesn’t appreciate the long distance calls.]_

_[from someone who is watching this all go down from a different fucking country, I want to remind you that haru is ALONE in tokyo and youre all he has. its not your job to keep him entertained but seriously. youre his best friend. you have all these new friends that he doesnt even know. theres this chick named sato that he has never even met but he talks about her. he wants to be part of your college life. hes hurting. he doesnt say it outright. but you and I both know he bottles shit up like an idiot and pretends everything is ok when its really not.]_

_[and as a friend I dont think a little opening up is too much to fucking ask for. he feels like he is just a side story to your life. I dont blame him. ever since you and sousuke hooked up, sousuke has barely spoken a word to me. also did you guys move in together??? because sousuke’s contact with me is basically 0 now. and yeah thats hypocritical, which is why I dont ride his ass about it. but I understand where harus coming from. you and sousuke are in this happy little bubble but youre forgetting everyone on the outside.]_

_[and I dont want to be a fucking wet blanket here but im going to be perfectly honest with you. one day that perfect bubble youve created with sousuke is all youre going to have left. because haru is getting fed up. also if this sounds selfish to you, you really dont understand how your neglect is hurting him. hes not asking for a fucking parade in his honor. all haru wants is to be included in your life and youre shutting him out.]_

_[whatever. sorry for blowing up your phone. but that idiot would never say all of that. I dont want to sink our friendship or anything. also youre 20 now so lets go get drunk and party. I really dont want to lose you as a friend, ok? and I especially dont want you and haru to end up drifting apart for good. so yeah. sorry if I was too harsh. sousuke might punch me next time he sees me but I dont care. I care too much about you guys to let your friendship just die like this.]_

Makoto chokes back a sob, completely and utterly stunned by Rin's wall of text. Sniffing, he wipes helplessly at the tears running down his face. He doesn’t know if he’s angry or just sad—probably a little bit of both. On one hand, he’s angry at Rin for butting in, but it’s more of a reactive, hurt type of anger. He’s been called out for what he’s doing to Haru and he hates it, but he can’t deny it. He really can’t.

“God. I’m so stupid,” Makoto whispers to himself.

“Hey, Makoto, dinner’s almost ready, so can you--” Sousuke begins as he walks in the door. Makoto looks up at him with tear-filled eyes and Sousuke instantly rushes to him. “Whoa! Whoa, what’s wrong? What happened?”

Makoto sniffs, hiccupping too much to answer. He passes the phone to Sousuke and lets him read. Sousuke’s face gets progressively angrier as he goes on, until he finally hits the call button and brings the phone to his ear.

“Wh-What are you doing?” Makoto whimpers.

“Who the fuck gave you the right, Rin?” Sousuke snarls into the phone. “Do you want to fucking fight me? Because I will. I’ll fight you right now.”

As Sousuke goes quiet, Makoto hears Rin’s voice speaking calmly on the other line. He can’t quite make out the words, but Sousuke tenses beside him.

“You made him fucking cry, that’s what you did.”

Pause.

“I’m not going to put you on speaker phone.”

Sousuke doesn’t say anything for a while, listening to Rin. Finally, he curses, brings the phone away from his ear, and hits the speaker button.

“ _Yo,_ ” Rin says after a prolonged moment. Makoto sniffs and Rin sighs. _“Look, I’m sorry I made you cry. But the fact that you’re crying tells me that you know things are fucked up and you’re upset. Am I wrong?”_

“…N-No,” Makoto whimpers.

 _“I really don’t know what else to say, then. But the longer you put off confronting Haru about this, the more pissed off he’s going to be. Like… I’m really not a counselor type of guy, but I’m like the master of bottled up feelings. And I could sit here and hold your hand through all this, or I could be harsh and give it to you straight. Did you really expect me to sugarcoat any of this?_ ” Rin asks. He laughs a little, but it’s humorless. _“I’m serious. You guys are walking on super thin ice. And Sousuke, man, I get it. I do. I don’t have that many hard feelings towards you because I really do get it. Something big happens, you start drifting. You_ know _I’ve experienced that. But since I have, I’m trying to warn Makoto before he really damages some friendships. Just like I did. So calm your fucking jets. Makoto can take a little criticism, he’s not some delicate flower.”_

“You say that but you’re always joking about how he’s too gentle for someone like me,” Sousuke snaps. Rin is silent for a moment before heaving a sigh.

_“I do still think that. I really don’t get how two people who didn’t say a single word to each other the entire time we were in high school, who have nothing in common, who are complete polar opposites, could end up together. I’m still pretty blown away by that. But like... was a stupid date really worth blowing off your best friend’s first celebration for a gold medal? He told me how upset he was about that. Really stuck with him. Like I said, he’s not looking for a parade. But he’s being cast aside and he knows it. You know it, too, Makoto.”_

“But…” Makoto whispers. “But Haru just gets mad at me if I ever talk about Sousuke!”

_“…What else do you talk to him about besides Sousuke? Do you talk to him about classes? Your parents? The twins? Have you even invited him back to Iwatobi with you to stay with you once? Or is that just for Sousuke now? Do you tell him about your other friends? Have you even asked if he wants to meet that Sato person? He seriously feels like Sousuke dominates every part of your life and--”_

“I don’t dominate every part of his life,” Sousuke snaps.

“ _Probably not, but Haru sure feels that way. He’s almost hysterically worried. I think he actually thinks there’s emotional abuse going on or something. Don’t quote me on that.”_

“I would _never--_ ” Sousuke snarls, too full of rage to even finish. Rin sighs loudly.

_“Yeah, and I know that. But Haru doesn’t know shit about you. And neither of you two idiots are willing to get to know each other. Doesn’t that make you mad, Makoto?”_

“It... I wish they’d agree to meet up, yes. It’s a little frustrating,” Makoto admits. Sousuke frowns at him.

“Why does it even _matter?_ ”

 _"Like... put this in perspective. What if Haru and I got together and all I talked about was Haru, and every conversation I had with you suddenly turned to Haru? And more and more time was spent with Haru instead of you. And this goes on for almost two years without knowing_ anything _about Haru. And you want to know how I’m doing, but I talk about Haru instead of my family or anything else.”_

“I--” Sousuke starts. He shuts his mouth, furious. “…God damn it. I’d… probably think he was trying to purposely keep you away from your family and friends.”

 _“Exactly. Makoto, Haru feels like he’s losing you to someone he doesn’t understand. His only impression of Sousuke is that he makes people cry and threatens to beat the shit out of people if they get in his way. Haru told me_ that _too, Sousuke. That was seriously a dick move.”_

“Well--”

_“Don’t make excuses. That shit was out of line. It makes sense that Haru doesn’t want to see you when he thinks you might just knock him out the first chance you get.”_

Sousuke goes quiet and looks away from the phone, as if Rin can see him. Makoto frowns and puts a hand on his thigh.

“ _Look, guys_. _You love each other a lot_ ,” Rin says. His voice is gentle. “ _And I’m… okay, even though I don’t get it, I’m glad. I’m happy that you guys found love and that you're happy. But just... don’t forget about the rest of us. We love you guys, too. And we’re not feeling the love right now. That’s all I’m trying to say.”_

“Okay,” Makoto sighs. Rin grunts.

_“Sweet. I’ll talk to you guys later. Let me know if you guys are up to party sometime, they really know how to have a good time down here. Have a good night. Peace.”_

“Later,” Sousuke says. He hangs up and they sit there in silence.

“I’m _horrible_ ,” Makoto moans, putting his face in his hands.

“Hey,” Sousuke murmurs. He rubs Makoto’s back slowly up and down. “Shut it. You’re not. Don’t say that.”

“No, it’s because… I have no idea how to face Haru about this,” Makoto says. He lifts his face and combs his fingers through his hair. “This situation is so complicated, I… don’t know what to do. I can’t just _tell_ Haru that Rin told me everything, or he’ll feel even more deceived than he already does. And he… absolutely will _not_ agree to meet up with you. Especially if he’s scared.”

“I don’t know what to do either,” Sousuke admits. “I’m sorry. And I’m sorry about… look, I was stupid in high school, I was pissed about my shoulder and I was pissed about this new guy coming along and taking Rin away. And looking back on it, I _do_ regret getting in Nanase’s face like that.”

“We all did stupid things in high school we wouldn’t do now,” Makoto assures him. He sighs and looks down at his lap. He knows he shouldn’t fear a fight with Haru, but he does anyway. “I mean, it’s obvious. I need to talk to Haru. But I…”

“Just… stop thinking about it for now. Give yourself some time to process it,” Sousuke murmurs, pulling Makoto in to lean on him. “Relax now, and we’ll figure out this mess later.”

“ _We?_ ” Makoto echoes. Sousuke grins and rests his chin on Makoto’s head.

“I’m on your side,” he says gently. Makoto’s throat tightens.

“Thank you.”

 

**JUNE, 2016**

Haru participates in the swimming trials for the Japanese Olympic swim team. Like several of his other teammates, he makes the cut. Rin returns to Japan for the trials and easily makes the cut alongside Haru.

Haru scores the fastest times for both the 100m and 200m freestyle and breaks a regional record at the trials. After that, his days are quickly swallowed up by sponsorship offers. He immediately becomes the sweetheart of the Japanese Olympic team, much to Rin's amusement. Makoto will never forget the day he looks up from his breakfast to see his best friends and their team on a commercial for the Olympics.

On Haru’s twenty-first birthday, Rin makes a surprise visit. He’s armed with enough alcohol to kill a grown man.

“C’mon, Makoto, you’re twenty. You can get as drunk as you want,” Rin insists, trying to offer Makoto a shot glass as they sit around Haru's table in the living room. Laughing, Makoto shakes his head and holds up a hand.

“No, thank you. I’m not really interested,” he says gently. Rin gives him a look but shrugs, taking the shot himself.

“Maaan, I wanted to see what you’d look like drunk,” he slurs. “You’d _definitely_ be a weepy drunk. Totally cute.”

Rin snorts and laughs to himself, his head lolling to the side as he presses the back of his hand to his reddened cheek. After a moment, his face turns sour and he looks between Makoto and Haru.

“Neither of you are drinking with me! Even you, Haru! Drink, damn it!”

He shoves a can of beer at Haru, pressing the cold can against his cheek. Haru, who has been idly flipping through a swimming magazine, looks up with a petulant look on his face.

“You’re being a pain.”

Makoto laughs as Rin makes an indignant sound. However, Haru snatches the beer out of Rin’s hand, cracks it open, and starts to chug it. Makoto gapes at the display while Rin laughs his ass off and pounds his fist on the table.

“Go! Go! _Go!_ ” he chants. Haru finishes it off and slams the empty can on the table, his eyes shut.

“ _Haru!_ ” Makoto exclaims. Haru’s eyes open and he stares blankly at Rin.

“I drank,” he announces, burying his nose back in his magazine.

“That doesn’t _count_. You have to be wasted, you god damn prude.”

Rin snatches Haru’s magazine out of his hands and tosses it aside.

“Hey!” Haru protests. Rin slings an arm around his neck and wiggles another can of beer in front of his face.

“One more,” he says lowly. “Or I’ll bite you.”

“You’re heavy,” Haru mutters. Rin opens the beer for him and brings it to his lips.

“Drink up, swimmer boy,” Rin singsongs. Haru tips his head back and chugs his second can down with ease. Rin gives him a shark-toothed grin. “Starting to warm up?”

Haru side-eyes Rin.

“You’re the only warm one here,” he quips. Rin chuckles and noses at Haru’s cheek. “Oi. Rin. Stop being so touchy.”

"Relax. I know you're ace. Not gonna try anything."

“Hey, Rin?” Makoto asks suddenly. Rin turns and blinks blearily at Makoto.

“Hnn?”

“What’s your sexuality?” he asks. Rin furrows his brow. His drunken and confused face almost makes Makoto laugh.

“My sexu...?” Rin trails off. “Haven’t really thought about it. Always thought everyone assumed I was a big queer. Thought I was the only one, actually. And like... damn. You’re gay, Sousuke’s bi, Haru’s ace—next thing you know, Nagisa’s gonna tell us he's an orgy type of guy... but looks like the only one who _isn’t_ a little homo is the butterfly boy. It’s too bad. Thought he was pretty hot, and now he’s with my sister. Speaking of which, I’m going to call and make sure they’re not diddlin’ themselves over Skype or something.”

“That’s not really necessary!” Makoto blurts, quickly taking Rin’s phone from him before he can do anything stupid.

“Ah, jeez. Well, anyway, whatever gender is fine. Boy, girl. Even if they weren’t a boy _or_ a girl? Don’t give a shit. Sex feels great, swimming feels great. You know?” Rin asks. He shrugs.

“So you sleep around,” Haru deadpans, cracking open a third beer. "I thought you really valued romantic stuff."

“Naaaah, I don't sleep around,” Rin drawls, waving his hand. “But I have a few good friends down in Australia who I’ve messed around with. I don’t fuck strangers. And as for the romance thing... that can wait 'til later, right? I'm too busy with swimming. And I don't think I've met the right person yet.”

“That’s good. I mean... not having sex with strangers,” Makoto says, relieved. “As long as you’re being safe.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Thanks, Mom,” Rin says dismissively. He winks at Makoto. “Wouldn’t mind hooking up with some friends here, too.”

“Rin!” Makoto squeals, slapping his hands over his face. Rin barks a laugh.

“I’m kidding! I know you guys aren’t into that scene. I get it. But hey, hey—if butterfly boy ever breaks up with my sister, I’m jumping on that. That’s a promise,” Rin says. Haru snorts. His cheeks are starting to turn a little red. Rin grins. “Startin’ to feel a little buzzed, buddy?”

“Not really,” Haru says. He hiccups and Rin snickers.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?”

Haru pauses, then nods and reaches for another can. Makoto, a little wary, stops him with a hand.

“Um... be careful, Haru. Don’t drink too much.”

“You’re not my _mom_ ,” Haru says flatly. Makoto gasps, scandalized.

“Haru, that was so _mean!_ ”

“Sooorry,” Haru burbles. He gets on his hands and knees and shuffles to Makoto. He starts rubbing against him like a cat. Rin laughs.

“Oops. He’s more of a lightweight than I thought. He drank those beers too fast. And he’s the cuddly type of drunk, huh? Pretty cute,” he comments. Rin takes another shot as Makoto gets a lap full of Haru. Haru snuggles up against Makoto, looping his hands around his neck.

“Haru...?” Makoto asks carefully. “Are you okay?”

“For the team,” Haru recites out of nowhere, making Makoto laugh.

“Honestly,” he sighs, patting Haru’s back. “I think it’s about time for bed.”

“Whaaat?” Rin yawns. He crawls over to Makoto and grabs onto his arm. “I call dibs on the big guy. It’s like sleeping with a big teddy bear.”

“No,” Haru snaps. He grabs hold of Makoto’s other arm and clings. “I’m...”

He starts to nod off halfway through his sentence, his head bobbing slightly.

“I really think it’s time for bed,” Makoto giggles, gently pulling his arms away from both of them. He gets to his feet and reaches down for Haru. He grunts with the effort, but manages to scoop his arms under his back and knees and lift.

He brings Haru to his bedroom and tucks him in.

“Goodnight, Haru,” he whispers. Once Haru is in bed, he tiptoes out of his bedroom and returns to the living room. Rin is leaned up against the couch, a thoughtful look on his face.

“Have you talked to Haru yet? About that thing,” Rin asks. His speech is still quite slurred, but he looks entirely serious. Makoto sighs and sits beside him, knees up against his chest.

“Not yet. I don’t know how to talk to him about it,” he admits. Rin grunts, takes a swig of beer, and tips his head back.

“Hope you know how much I value you guys. And how much I want to see you guys get along,” he says. “Sousuke and Haru, too. Wish Sousuke would’ve given him a chance earlier.”

“Yeah,” Makoto sighs. Rin glances over at him.

“Does it piss you off that they don't want to meet each other?”

“A little bit,” Makoto admits. He runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head. “It’s kinda starting to annoy me.”

Rin hums and nods, then taps his beer can against Makoto's shoulder.

"Need a drink?"

Makoto hesitates, but takes the can and takes a tiny sip. His nose wrinkles and he shudders with disgust.

" _Yuck!_ "

Rin laughs and jabs Makoto with his elbow, shaking his head. 

"You were always pretty vanilla," he snickers, taking his beer back. He lets out a sigh and leans his head against Makoto's shoulder. "I miss you guys a lot when I'm down in Australia. Think about you and Haru a lot. Sousuke, too. Ai and Momo, Gou, Nagisa, Rei. All of you guys."

Makoto rests his cheek on the top of Rin's head.

"We miss you too. Even though me and Sousuke are busy with each other... and I know he misses you a lot, too."

"Wish I could be here all the time. Mediate between you guys and shit. Like a good friend," Rin laments. 

"I think you're a _wonderful_ friend, Rin. I really care about you."

"Ha. Thanks. I still wish I could help more with the situation with you and Sousuke and Haru."

"It's... really complicated. I don't think there's anything you could say that would make them more willing to meet each other," Makoto laughs, flashing Rin an apologetic smile. Rin groans and rolls his eyes.

“Jeez. What a mess. Just promise me one thing, ‘kay?”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t break their hearts.”

 

**JULY, 2016**

 “Mmm... hnnn... hn? Mm, Makoto. Makoto?”

The blanket suddenly lifts from Makoto’s head, letting in the light. Whining, Makoto lets Sousuke’s cock slip out of his mouth and pouts up at him.

“Hey. N-No... no peeking,” he pants. Sousuke, who is still rubbing the sleepiness out of his eyes, gives him an exhausted look. Little bruises are all over his chest, and he’s completely naked save for his caduceus pendant.

“We literally had sex all night. How are you still not satisfied?” he asks groggily.

“You say that, but you’re really excited,” Makoto points out, tapping his fingers against the tip.

“Mm... that’s true,” Sousuke laughs. He runs a hand through his messy hair and smirks. “...Then you can continue.”

Makoto smiles and, keeping his eyes locked on Sousuke, starts mouthing his shaft.

“Happy anniversary,” he murmurs. Sousuke grunts.

“Yeah. Happy anniversary.”

 

**AUGUST, 2016**

The Tachibana household is absolutely full: Makoto’s family, Nagisa, Gou, Rei, and Sousuke all crowd around the television. There’s beer and sake all around, and the twins are supercharged with sugar as they bounce up and down with posters that they made themselves. Their posters read _Go, Haru-chan!_ Meanwhile, Gou, Nagisa, and Rei hold up posters that say _Fight!! Onii-chan!! Haruka-senpai!! Rin-chan!! Haru-chan!! Rin-san!! Haruka-senpai!!_

It’s not the same as being in the stands, but the television is hooked up to a stereo system and the whole neighborhood knows Haru and Rin are competing in the Olympic games. It’s already ten o’clock at night in Japan, but in Brazil it’s still eleven in the morning and the swimming finals are just kicking off.

“They’re doing butterfly after this,” Rei says. He pushes up his glasses. “We’ll have to stay up late, but we’ll be able to catch Rin-san in the butterfly race.”

“He’s still swimming with Haru. He made it to the freestyle finals, too,” Makoto adds, even though everyone else clearly already knows that information. He keeps repeating it, as if convincing himself that it’s real. Sitting on the edge of his seat, he stares at the television screen. He grips the armrests, his whole body fighting the urge to stand up and jump around.

“Nervous?” Sousuke asks softly. He puts a hand on Makoto’s arm and rubs up and down. Makoto nods clumsily, taking Sousuke’s hand and squeezing hard.

“I might throw up,” he admits. Sousuke laughs.

“Your hand is so sweaty,” he teases. Makoto pulls his hand away and wipes it on his pants. “You didn’t have to let go.”

“I just saw Haruka-senpai!” Gou suddenly screams. Every set of eyes snaps to the television, straining to see.

“I don’t see him!” Nagisa cries. The twins squeal, jumping in front of the television and getting yelled at to get out of the way.

“He’s right there! Look!”

“That’s not him, he’s still in the wings!”

The camera suddenly snaps to the entrance to the pool. The swimmers are emerging one by one, getting short announcements by the commentators. Most of Haru and Rin's competition is Americans, Europeans, and Australians. Rin is the fourth competitor to emerge from the wings. He flashes a big, toothy grin as he waves at the audience and the cameras. Gou, Rei, and Sousuke cheer especially loud for him.

Haru comes out right after Rin. Everyone except for Sousuke shrieks at the sight of him. His face is cool and composed as he slowly unzips his Olympic jacket and hands it to the trainer who walks up beside him.

_“And in the fourth and fifth lane, two freestyle swimmers who have taken the country by storm, Nanase Haruka and Matsuoka Rin. They are the only Japanese competitors to make the 100m freestyle finals. We haven’t heard much about them until now, haven’t we?”_

_“That’s right. Nanase was born and raised in the small town of Iwatobi, Tottori—and his catchphrase seems to be that he only swims free, is that correct?”_

“Haru-chan only swims free! He only swims free!” Ran and Ren scream in unison. They’re quickly hushed by everyone.

_“That’s right. Quite an eccentric young man. This is his first time at the Olympics, but he has been setting the bar pretty high. From what we understand, he has actually been setting times among the ranks of the top American swimmers during practice. Absolutely incredible, really.”_

_“His parents seem to have high hopes for him, too. We talked to them before the games today, and they said they have absolute faith in Nanase—here they are. With a banner, of course,”_ the commentator says. The camera pans to Haru’s parents, who are sitting in the stands with their banner in their laps.

_“That’s really nice. It’s great to see parents supporting their children even when they’re in their twenties.”_

_“We’ve also seen him talking to his alleged rival, Matsuoka Rin? Are the rumors true, that they’re actually childhood friends?”_

_“That’s right—Matsuoka Rin was also born in Iwatobi. It must be incredible for that small town to have not one, but_ two _athletes from their area make it to the finals. Iwatobi must feel honored.”_

_“Indeed. Yes, we’ve truly got extraordinary athletes on our swim team this season, and I’m sure all of Japan is counting on them to make us proud. Best of luck to you, Nanase and Matsuoka!”_

Makoto digs his nails into Sousuke’s hand as he watches Haru talk to his trainer before stepping up beside the starting block at the fifth lane. Rin steps up beside him. The competitors jump up and down in place, shaking out their arms, cracking their necks, and stretching. When every competitor is ready, they step up onto the starting blocks and the arena goes almost completely silent.

_“Take your marks.”_

The swimmers get into position, tensing on the starting blocks. The Tachibana household sits on the edge of their seats. Nobody moves. Nobody breathes.

The starting gun sounds and the swimmers dive. Haru is on top of his game; he dives at precisely the right moment and swims hard. He is merciless as he powers his way into first place before they even get to the turn. Rin is hot on his tail, and Makoto swears he can see Rin grinning ear-to-ear.

Makoto jumps to his feet when Haru gets to the turn. Forty meters. Thirty meters. Twenty meters. The commentators are yelling something but Makoto can’t make it out. He can’t breathe, he can’t make any sound come out of his mouth. Haru’s in first place. He’s only a fraction of a second behind the world record. The commentators are _screaming_ now.

Makoto bellows Haru’s name so hard and so loud that it damn near rips his throat to shreds, but he doesn’t care. He yells like his voice is going to reach all the way to Brazil and ripple the waves in that pool, to hopefully push Haru to go a little faster. At the same time, Sousuke roars out Rin’s name, grabbing Makoto’s hand tight in his and squeezing hard.

Haru hits the wall first, with Rin a millisecond behind him. The arena erupts into wild applause and cheering. The Tachibana household collectively loses their minds. Everyone is on their feet—even Sousuke. Makoto jumps into Sousuke’s arms before he can stop himself, legs wrapping around his waist and nearly making him fall over. Sousuke grips him tight and spins him around.

 _“He did it! Nanase Haruka did it! Nanase-san is bringing home the gold! And Matsuoka takes the silver, at only a fraction of a second behind him! What an intense race!”_ the commentators yell. The camera flashes to Haru’s parents, who are jumping up and down with their banner flying high.

_“And that incredible time! Not even a quarter of a second away from matching the world record!”_

The camera goes back to Haru’s face. He’s panting hard, eyes locked on the scoreboard. Even _he_ doesn’t look like he believes it. The American swimmer in the sixth lane gives Haru a high-five. Rin, on the other hand, practically dives over the lane markers to embrace him. Looking flustered, Haru hesitantly hugs him back. 

_“Such an incredible race, I’ve never seen someone swim that smoothly in my life--”_

“Rin-san and Haruka-senpai are both so beautiful!” Rei wails. He has tears streaming down his face. Beside him, Gou laughs and pats his head before Nagisa suddenly grabs her and sweeps her up into his arms. He lands a big, huge smooch right on her lips.

“I love you, Gou-chan!” Nagisa cries, a big smile on his face. Makoto half expects Rei to launch Nagisa out a window, but in a surprising turn of events, he actually steps forward and brings both of them into his arms. He kisses Gou first, then kisses Nagisa.

“Nagisa-kun, we were supposed to wait a little longer to tell everyone,” Rei scolds, but the smile remains on his face.

“ _What_ ,” Sousuke deadpans. Nagisa winks and sticks his tongue out.

“Don’t tell Rin-chan yet,” he says coyly. Gou giggles.

“He’s going to murder all three of you,” Sousuke sighs, but he is only met with laughter.

“He won,” Makoto murmurs, still too blown away by the race to really care about the newly revealed polyamorous relationship in the middle of his living room. He leans heavily on Sousuke, weak at the knees. “Haru did it. And Rin won silver! That’s amazing!”

“…Yeah. It was pretty impressive,” Sousuke says carefully. Makoto smiles.

“You thought it was much more impressive than you want to admit,” he teases. Sousuke huffs and looks away.

“Whatever. Rin got silver. I’m proud of him,” he says. Makoto grins and leans up to kiss the side of his mouth.

Later, Rin wins the gold for both the 100m and 200m butterfly, but doesn’t place in the 200m freestyle. Haru wins bronze in the 200m freestyle behind a powerful American swimmer and a Russian who breaks a world record.

During the medal ceremony, Haru looks bored as the Japanese national anthem plays. Rin, of course, is crying next to him with a bouquet of flowers in his arms. The moment they’re given their medals, Rin yanks Haru down and slings an arm over his shoulders. He looks at the camera and holds up a peace sign while Haru sighs and looks off to the side. The commentators chatter about their friendship and sportsmanship, but Makoto doesn’t listen.

Things may have changed in Haru—both he and Makoto have evolved as individuals throughout the years, but this will always remain the same. Haru’s aloof demeanor will never change, but the spirit of competition is in his blood. Makoto can see the fire in his eyes even through the lens of a camera.

 _This_ Haru is the one Makoto knows. Seeing him like this, even though he’s on the other side of the world, gives Makoto faith. Everything will be fine. It will take time, but things will work out.

He knows it.

 

**SEPTEMBER, 2016**

“Mmm…” Makoto hums, tapping his chin as he scrolls through his Amazon shopping cart on his phone. It’s filled with possible presents that he could get Sousuke for his birthday, but he can’t decide. Across the table, Haru gives him a grumpy look.

“Your mackerel is going to get cold, and it’ll be a waste,” he says. “If you’re going to come to my apartment to eat, then eat.”

“Oh! I’m sorry, I was just looking for…” Makoto trails off. “Nothing. Thanks for the meal.”

He eats silently, eyes wandering to the framed Olympic medals hanging on Haru’s wall. The bronze is displayed just as proudly as the gold. After the Olympics, Haru’s publicity calmed down quite a bit. He still does commercials now and again (when people found out he was kind of camera shy, the offers died down a lot), but most of his time is spent training for more tournaments.

“…Yamazaki’s birthday is coming up?” Haru guesses. Makoto looks up, surprised.

“H-Haru, we don’t have to talk about Sousuke,” he says quickly. Haru frowns and looks down. A little frustrated, Makoto sighs, “I’m really confused. You get mad when we talk about Sousuke, but you also bring him up sometimes. I don’t know if I should not talk about Sousuke at all or… or talk about him more.”

Haru squeezes his chopsticks in his hand.

“I… don’t know either,” Haru mutters. He runs a hand through his hair, frustration written all over his face. “It annoys me. I hate it when you talk about him. But I don’t want to not know.”

Haru smacks his elbows on the table with a surprisingly loud _clang_. Makoto, shocked, raises his eyebrows and stares at Haru’s lowered head.

“What’s… going on with you?” Makoto asks quietly. Haru grits his teeth. “I don’t want to fight, okay? I’m confused. I know we’ve been having a hard time lately. And you hate the idea of me talking about Sousuke so much, but you’re curious about him?”

Haru doesn’t answer.

“D-Do you _like_ me or something, Haru?”

Now Haru slams his palms on the table, furious. Makoto jumps, holding his hands up in surrender.

“ _No_ ,” Haru growls. “That’s not it at all!”

“Then what’s the _problem?!_ ” Makoto questions, his voice rising. “Haru, I have _no_ clue what you’re thinking! I don’t understand! And... it feels like I’m losing you, somehow. When I look at you, I don’t know what you’re thinking anymore. And I’m scared for you.”

“I want to meet Sato-san.”

“… _Huh?_ ”

“Your friend,” Haru says. “She knows a lot about LGBTQ stuff, right?”

“Y-Yeah, but what do you mean?”

“I need to talk to her,” Haru says firmly. “So introduce us soon.”

Makoto stares at Haru, even more confused than before.

“Are you having a sexuality crisis?” Makoto asks. Haru rubs his arm, looking vulnerable.

“No. Not sexuality. I just need to ask her about something.”

“I… Haru, _please_. You’re being so vague. I won’t introduce her to you until you tell me.”

“Please,” Haru blurts. He puts his face back in his hands. “ _Please_.”

His voice sounds so uncharacteristically broken. Makoto swallows. He’s confused and a little hurt, but… Haru never begs him like this. Never. Finally, Makoto takes a deep breath and takes the bait, hoping that it will lead somewhere positive.

“Fine. I’ll introduce you guys.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friend [Diana.](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com)
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	37. Chapter 37

“Sousuke!”

“What?”

Makoto storms into their bedroom and tosses a balled-up shirt at Sousuke, who curses and drops his textbook to catch it. He fumbles the shirt and it flutters to the floor.

“I _told_ you to stop putting your gym shirts in with my dress clothes!” Makoto huffs. Sousuke glowers at him, lips pursed.

“Okay, but that’s _my_ detergent you’re wasting. It all gets cleaned anyway,” Sousuke grumps. Makoto rolls his eyes and walks out of the room. “Oi, don’t walk away from me!”

Makoto hears Sousuke stomp up behind him and he turns just in time to get a face full of dirty gym shirt. He gets a big whiff of sweat and body odor and splutters as he yanks the shirt away from his nose and stumbles.

“Very dramatic. Now put it in with the rest of the laundry.”

“I don’t want my nice clothes smelling!”

“It _all_ gets cleaned.”

“The _gym stuff_ goes in with the _underwear_ and the _socks_ ,” Makoto recites. “Fine washables are separate for a _reason_. It’s not my fault you forgot to put your shirt in the hamper and missed the first load of laundry.”

“Just fucking put it in.”

“You can have your shirt washed when it’s your turn to do laundry next week.”

Makoto throws Sousuke’s shirt back at him and spins on his heel to return to the washer and dryer. He closes the lid of the washer and is just about to hit start when Sousuke rushes up behind him and shoves him up against the machine. Makoto gasps and doubles over, catching himself with his elbows on the cool metal.

“Are you being a little brat on purpose?” Sousuke snarls. Makoto bites his lip and glances over his shoulder.

“N-Not at all,” he croons. He hisses as Sousuke bucks his hips up against him, knocking him against the washer.

“Liar,” Sousuke huffs. His fingernails drag down Makoto’s flannel and down to his spandex-covered ass. “Damn. I always liked these shorts on you. You really are doing this shit on purpose.”

“Well, it _is_ Saturday,” Makoto hums. Sousuke grabs him by the shoulder and roughly spins him around.

“Are you implying you want something?”

Makoto loops an arm around Sousuke’s neck and smiles.

“Maybe.”

“Put my gym shirt in the fucking washer, then,” Sousuke growls. He lifts his shirt and deposits it in Makoto’s hand. “Or no sex.”

“ _Sousuke_ ,” Makoto whines. Sousuke crosses his arms. With a resigned sigh, Makoto opens the lid of the washer and tosses the shirt inside. He pouts as he shuts the lid and presses the start button.

“I won’t let it happen again,” Sousuke promises, moving in close and raining kisses onto Makoto’s neck. “I’ll make sure it gets in the hamper next time.”

“You say that every time,” Makoto mumbles, but he doesn’t protest when Sousuke kisses his lips. With his butt pressed up to the running washer, he lets Sousuke kiss him nice and slow. His hands take their usual spot on his neck, massaging the column of his throat as his tongue slips into his mouth. “Mmm…”

“Kind of in the mood to be on top this time,” Sousuke murmurs wetly between kisses. Makoto moans and lets Sousuke hoist him up onto the washer. Sousuke pushes his knees apart and moves between his thighs. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Makoto sighs. He’d be lying if he said that the vibrations of the washing machine don’t feel good. He bites his lip and wiggles his hips.

“I love laundry day. You smell good,” Sousuke says, resting his forehead on Makoto’s shoulder and sniffing his collarbone. “I like the dryer sheets you got.”

“I told you those weren’t a waste of money,” Makoto teases gently. He cuddles Sousuke’s head and rubs the hair at the nape of his neck and his shoulders. He feels Sousuke’s shoulder brace underneath his shirt and frowns. “How’s your shoulder doing? Now that it’s starting to get chilly again…”

“It ached a little bit this morning, but it’s okay now,” Sousuke rumbles. He lets Makoto pet his shoulder and trace his fingers along the edge of the brace.

“Are you okay?” Makoto asks. Sousuke heaves a sigh and pulls back to look up at Makoto’s face.

“I’m… well, I’ve come to terms with the fact that I can’t do shit about it,” Sousuke grumbles. “The thought doesn’t sting as much as it used to, though.”

Makoto frames Sousuke’s face with his hands and just looks at him for a moment.

“What?” Sousuke asks. Makoto shakes his head, smiling lightly.

“Nothing. You have pretty eyes,” he whispers. He traces his thumbs along the dark, permanent crescents under Sousuke’s eyes. Sighing, Sousuke shuts them and lets Makoto brush his eyelashes with the pad of his thumb.

“You know, you help a lot. Just with stuff like this,” Sousuke says quietly. Makoto pauses and tilts his head. When Sousuke opens his eyes, they’re burning. “Touching me and holding me makes me worry less. Makes me feel wanted. Like, my dad says that love doesn’t cure anxiety or whatever. And yeah, it’s not like all the anxiety is gone or anything. But it sure helps when you’re just here, with me.”

“I’m glad,” Makoto coos. Sousuke bows his head and buries his face in Makoto’s chest. Makoto cradles his head and pets his hair.

“Still want sex?” Sousuke asks, muffled. Makoto giggles.

“Jeez, Sousuke. Of course I wa--”

The doorbell interrupts him. Sousuke lifts his head, flashing a petulant look at the door and narrowing his eyes.

“Who the fuck?” he growls. Makoto squirms his way off of the washer and straightens his shirt.

“I think it might be Sato-san. I forgot she wanted to come over today,” Makoto says sheepishly, scratching his cheek. Sousuke groans.

“I don’t want that idiot in our apartment. Especially on Saturday.”

The doorbell rings again.

“I can hear you little brats in there!” Sato’s muffled voice yells through the door. Makoto laughs as Sousuke groans. Makoto answers the door, revealing Sato, who is holding a cardboard box. “I brought donuts from work!”

“Come on in,” Makoto says.

“Hope I wasn’t interrupting anything!” Sato chirps. Sousuke scowls as Sato takes off her jacket and hangs it up. “But I have a totally sweet, amazing, _super_ awesome offer for you guys!”

“I don’t want to try vegetarian recipes in my god damn kitchen again. I still haven’t gotten that stain off the wall,” Sousuke complains. He leans against the washer and crosses his arms. “And that’s final.”

“I didn’t come here about _that_ ,” Sato snaps. “Eat a donut, grumpy.”

Makoto laughs as Sato grabs a powdered donut out of the donut box and pushes it towards Sousuke’s mouth. Sousuke tries to shove her hand away, but only manages to get powder in his hair and all over the front of his black tank-top.

“Do you want a broken arm?” Sousuke warns. Sato takes her chance and stuffs the donut in Sousuke’s mouth. Once Sousuke’s too busy chewing to talk, Sato turns back to Makoto.

“No, but seriously, I wanted to invite you guys to a fundraiser event. For the LGBTQ group,” Sato says.

“No. Nooooo. No,” Sousuke mumbles around his donut. “Count me out. No way.”

“Sousuke-kun, you’re such a jerk!” Sato yells. Sousuke puts up his middle finger and escapes down the hall and into the living room. When he’s gone, Sato faces Makoto, pouting her lip. “Pleeease, Mako-kun? Please, please, _please_ , I will love you _forever!_ ”

She clasps her hands together and bounces up and down.

“Pleasepleasepleaseple--”

“What event is it?” Makoto asks. Sato squeals and pulls a piece of folded paper out of her pocket. She opens it up and shoves it in Makoto’s face. The second Makoto registers what it says, his face falls. “Oh, Sato-san, I can’t do this.”

“But it’s almost Halloween, and haunted houses are the best!” Sato whines. The paper in question is a flyer for a haunted campus walk. “Just let me explain, okay? It’s like a tour of campus. And there are these haunted legends, and the tour group is going to send us through different buildings on campus that have been made up to look like haunted houses, and it’s going to be super scary and awesome! There’s free _cider_ and _donuts!_ And pizza, Mako-kun! You love pizza!”

Sato whines and begs, tugging on Makoto’s sleeves as he grimaces and tries not to look at her puppy-dog eyes.

“Halloween… it’s kind of a Western holiday, isn’t it?” Makoto tries. Sato huffs.

“But it’s fun! And spooky.”

“That’s not going to work with him, he’s skittish as hell,” Sousuke calls from the living room. Makoto blushes and moans, hiding his face.

“You’re scared?” Sato asks. “Oh, come on! It’s not actually _that_ scary.”

“One time a moth flew into our bedroom and he screamed like a baby.”

“Sousuke, please!” Makoto cries. He hears Sousuke’s muffled snickering.

“Sousuke-kun can hold your hand the whole time. Like I said, it’s an LGBTQ event, so everyone there will be okay with it if you guys do that kinda stuff,” Sato insists. Sousuke suddenly appears in the hallway again.

“Fuyumi. Gimme another donut,” he demands. Sato offers him the box and he reaches in. “Our love life is already disgustingly romantic. The last thing I need is an excuse to carry him bridal style out of a haunted house.”

“You can’t carry me,” Makoto sniffs. Sousuke flashes him a look.

“Is that a challenge, Tachibana?”

“Come _ooon_ , you don’t have to be all lovey-dovey if you don’t want to!” Sato exclaims.

“Can’t I just give you some money for the fundraiser?” Makoto whines. Sato pouts.

“That’s no fun. You guys are no fun. You never do events with me.”

“Ugh… fine, I’ll think about it,” Makoto sighs. Sato grins from ear to ear and bounces up and down. Sousuke snorts, shakes his head, and pops a donut in his mouth.

“Don’t eat all of the powdered ones!” Sato gasps. She pulls the box close to her and looks inside. “They’re almost all gone! How did you eat that fast?”

“Blame the Tachibana family,” Sousuke says, his mouth full. Makoto giggles.

“I’ll get some napkins,” he offers. “Take them to the living room.”

He goes to the kitchen to grab a handful of paper towels and brings them back to the living room, where Sato and Sousuke are sitting at the dining table and arguing about who gets the last powdered donut.

“Sato-san, I wanted to talk to you about something, by the way,” Makoto says. He sits down and hands her a paper towel.

“Go ahead,” she says. She shoots a glare at Sousuke as he takes the chance to steal the last powdered donut.

“It’s about… Haru,” Makoto says slowly. Sato lifts a brow.

“Haru-kun? I’ve never even met him officially.”

“Well, that’s the thing,” Makoto laughs. “He really, really wants to meet you.”

“Is Nanase planning on convincing Fuyumi that I’m the scum of the earth, too?” Sousuke grumbles. Makoto frowns.

“That’s not it. Well… I’m pretty sure it’s not, anyway. You see, for the past couple months… actually, even for the past year he’s been acting weird. And _really_ … if I think about it… two years, now. Ever since I got together with Sousuke. You know that much, at least, right?” Makoto asks. Sato, nibbling on a chocolate donut, nods.

“Yeah. He was having some trouble accepting your relationship because you were with Sousuke-kun and he doesn’t like him,” she recalls. “Right?”

“Yeah. Okay, but recently it’s been getting more and more confusing. He’s been really upset lately. Last month, right before Sousuke’s birthday, he actually specifically said he wanted to talk to you because he thinks you’re an LGBTQ expert.”

“I’m not an expert,” Sato says quickly. “I mean… I know a lot about it, but I only really know… ah, jeez. Whatever. What’s his problem?”

“That’s just it! He won’t tell me. I asked him if he was having a sexuality crisis, but he just said it wasn’t about his sexuality,” Makoto says. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m getting really concerned. It isn’t like him to be this riled up. Well… the last time he was like this…”

“It might a romantic crisis,” Sato suggests. Makoto furrows his brows.

“I thought he was aromantic.”

“Those kinds of things can fluctuate, depending on the person,” Sato explains. She scratches her chin and looks up at the ceiling. “And has he actually ever _said_ he was aromantic?”

“Well… I kind of just… he mentioned that he kind of thought he was? But he told me he’s felt really strong feelings towards me before. And our mutual friend, Rin.”

“Nanase had a crush on Rin?” Sousuke _tsk_ s. “Wow.”

“Sousuke, _please_ don’t,” Makoto says. Sousuke shrugs and looks away. “So he might not be aromantic?”

“Well, it sounds like he didn’t confirm it and you were just assuming he was based on things he’s said,” Sato says. “You shouldn’t do that, Mako-kun.”

“Oh. Sorry,” Makoto apologizes, a little taken aback. Sato waves her hand dismissively.

“Common mistake,” she says. She gets back to scratching her chin. “Hmm. Do you think he might still have a crush on you?”

“I asked him if he did, and he said he doesn’t. But he seemed a little defensive about it, so I really don’t know,” Makoto groans. “It’s all really confusing.”

“I sure _hope_ he doesn’t have a crush on you,” Sousuke says, his voice harsh. He crosses his arms. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“No,” Makoto says firmly. “I’m not interested in Haru that way.”

Sousuke hums, but still looks broody and anxious.

“Well, we do know one thing for sure. Haru-kun is asexual,” Sato says. “What was the context of him telling you that he used to like you?”

“I think his words were something like… jeez… this was, like, two years ago?” Makoto guesses. “We were in his living room, and he wanted to see what a kiss from me would be like. And--”

“What?” Sousuke hisses. Makoto gives him a look.

“This was before we started dating, Sousuke,” he says. “This was when you didn’t know if you actually liked me romantically or not.”

“Oh,” Sousuke says. His cheeks turn a little pink and his crossed arms tighten. Makoto laughs at the cute display.

“Anyway… Haru said something like he had really, really strong feelings for me and Rin, but he didn’t want a romantic relationship out of it or anything,” Makoto explains. Sato ponders.

“There’s... definitely a term for that. There has to be. I can look into it, and maybe ask Nori-chan?”

“Sato-san, at this point, I don’t care what happens as long as Haru feels better. He’s suffering so much. He pushes me away, but he’s pulling me in. He says he hates hearing about Sousuke, but he can’t help but be curious. The longer this goes on, the more conflicted he is. I just want things to go back to normal between us. I used to be able to read him like an open book, but I _can’t_ anymore,” Makoto says. He puts his head in his hands and stares down at the table. “It’s so stressful.”

Sato reaches out to pat Makoto’s shoulder.

“It’ll work out! You guys have been friends for a long time.”

“Yeah… I just… can you talk to him, please? I wish I could handle this, but it seems I just can’t relate to him with this, either,” Makoto whispers. He clenches his fists. “First swimming, and now this. Just… whatever you have to do to help him, please do it. Just don’t… please don’t take him out of the country.”

Makoto stares down at the table, shaking and trying to stop his throat from constricting.

“Huh? Why would I take him to another country?” Sato asks.

“…A while back, our friend Rin took Nanase to Australia to confront an issue,” Sousuke explains. Makoto cringes and puts his head down. “And it happened after he had a huge fight with that guy, so it really fucked him up.”

“That’s a little extreme,” Sato giggles. “I don’t have the money to take anyone anywhere.”

Makoto manages a little laugh and looks up, his face worn out.

“Thank you, Sato-san. When do you think you can meet up with Haru?”

“…Well, I’ll be perfectly honest. I’m super busy with my internship. Actually, this Halloween event is the only time I have off from work and school for a while. You could bring Haru to the event,” Sato suggests. Makoto grimaces.

“I’m sure he’d hate that.”

“Well, it’s either that, or I won’t be able to talk to him until… until after Christmas, at least,” Sato says. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m just happy you’re willing to do this,” Makoto sighs. “I’ll talk to him, and I’ll just tell him that this is the only chance to talk to you. I just really want this to be over as soon as possible.”

“I can’t promise anything,” Sato warns. “I’ll talk to Nori-chan and see what he says, but like…”

“Sato-san, you’ve taught me so much about this stuff. I trust you,” Makoto says.

“Me too,” Sousuke chips in. “I wouldn’t know shit about… any of the sexualities, really, if it wasn’t for you.”

“Aww, Sousuke-kun, you really _are_ nice!” Sato squeals. Sousuke glares at her.

“Oi. I was being serious. You’re annoying as hell, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t appreciate what you’ve done for us these past few years,” Sousuke says. “So… thanks.”

“Okay. Alright! I will do the best that I can to help out with Haru-kun’s problem!” Sato announces, putting her hands on her hips and puffing up her chest. “I’ll give it my best shot.”

“Thank you so much, Sato-san,” Makoto sighs, putting his hand over his heart. “Really.”

“Friends help friends. And I’ll always be here for you guys. I love you guys so much. Like, I’d take a bullet for you.”

“That’s a little too much,” Makoto giggles.

“Maybe it would shut her up for two minutes,” Sousuke scoffs. Sato barks out a laugh.

 “You love me, Sousuke-kun, don’t try to hide it,” she teases. Sousuke smirks at her and reaches out to grab the bun on top of her head and jostle it around.

“Yeah,” he says fondly. Sato pulls her phone out and checks it. Groaning, she hauls herself to her feet and pouts.

“I have to go put up flyers,” Sato says. “Mako-kun, text me about Haru-kun and let me know if he’ll come. I’ll make sure to set aside some time so I can talk to him.”

“Okay. Thanks Sato-san. Do you want the rest of your donuts?”

“No. Well… jeez,” Sato huffs. She reaches down and stuffs three donuts into her mouth. Waving, she leaves. The moment the door is shut, Sousuke sighs.

“Do we have any other surprise visitors today, or are we alone?”

“No. We’re all alone,” Makoto hums. He gets on his hands and knees and makes his way around the table. Sousuke lies down on the floor next to the bookshelf, grinning as Makoto straddles him and sits back on his hips.

“Glad I wasn’t the only one trying to hold back a boner.”

“Mm. So you’re sure about not wanting to come to the Halloween thing?” Makoto asks, popping open the buttons of his flannel. Sousuke shrugs.

“I’ll go if Nanase doesn’t want to. But if that guy wants to talk to Fuyumi so bad, then he’ll talk to her. And I’m not going if Nanase is going. Sorry.”

“Mm. It’s okay,” Makoto murmurs. Bracing his hands on Sousuke’s chest, he gives a slow roll of his hips that has both of them groaning. “…Ahh, I don’t really… want you seeing me all scared, anyway.”

“I like it when you’re scared. You get all cuddly with me. It’s cute,” Sousuke grunts. He bites his lip and reaches up to hold Makoto’s thighs, controlling the sway of his hips. “Damn. I don’t want to get up to get the lube.”

“Then don’t,” Makoto pants. The left side of his open flannel slips off his shoulder as he dry humps Sousuke. “Let’s do it like this.”

“Shit… how dirty do you want me to get?” Sousuke asks.

“Mmm.”

“You want me to call you names today?”

“Y-Yeah,” Makoto breathes. Sousuke smirks.

“Filthy slut.”

Makoto tips his head back and moans, fingers tangling in Sousuke’s shirt. However, before he can enjoy any more of Sousuke’s low voice, the apartment door slams open and Sato comes running in.

“I forgot to leave a flyer here for— _oh my god!_ ” Sato shouts. “Guys, I was only gone for _five_ minutes!”

“Sato-san!” Makoto squeaks, scrambling to close his flannel. He shifts backwards and drops down hard, making Sousuke yelp.

“You’re crushing my balls!” he wheezes. Makoto gasps and lifts his hips while Sousuke groans in pain and cups himself.

“ _I’m so sorry!_ ” Makoto wails.

“I swear to god, I’ll kill you,” Sousuke snarls at Sato. “I’m going to literally kill you.”

“Are you sure you can catch me with crushed balls?”

Sato shrieks with laughter as Sousuke grabs a magazine from the bookshelf and hurls it at her with all his might.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friend [Diana](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****IMPORTANT****
> 
> Hey guys, sorry for the delay in updates. I hit a wall (it had to happen at some point right?) and simply could not bring myself to write, so I had to call it a day or two to recover. 
> 
> The fact of the matter is, part 3 is very emotionally exhausting for me to write, because it explores topics that I have personally dealt with. I am pushing myself WAY out of my comfort zone to write about these things. No worries--nothing triggering, just overall emotionally exhausting things that are extremely draining for me to write on a personal level.
> 
> That being said, updates will now be **every other day** instead of daily. This might just be for part 3, but may leak into part 4 and 5. The chapters will still update at the same time during the day (noon, EST), but every other day instead of every day. Thank you very much for understanding.

The following day, Makoto wakes up at ten with a pleasant, warm ache in his hips and ass. Smiling to himself, he yawns and gets out of bed to stretch.

“Alright,” he says to himself. He smacks his cheeks. Today, he’s going to talk to Haru. He grabs his phone off the bedside table and sends him a text.

 _[I’m coming over soon! Let’s do something today._ _:)_ ]

As expected, he doesn’t get a response. Haru must be in the bath again.

Makoto pads out of the bedroom and to the living room, where he finds Sousuke sitting in nothing but his boxers on the floor in front of the couch, with a cup of coffee on the floor and his laptop in his lap. He’s scrolling through pictures of dogs.

“You’re working on your essay, right?” Makoto teases. Sousuke jumps and curses, hurriedly closing out of the window. He glares over his shoulder.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that,” he chides. Makoto goes to him and leans down for a kiss.

“Sorry. I’m going to Haru’s today, so don’t worry about making dinner for both of us.”

Sousuke frowns and leans up against the couch, crossing his arms.

“You’re staying the night?” he asks. Makoto nods.

“Mhm. But I’ll be back after class tomorrow.”

“…I see,” Sousuke says. He looks back at his laptop. Makoto can tell he’s not happy about the news, but he doesn’t say anything more than that.

“I really have to fix things with Haru. Since Sato-san agreed to see him, I have to talk to him. I’ve had a lot of time to think about what Rin said, and I want to make things better,” Makoto insists. “He was right. I’m neglecting Haru.”

“It’s not your _job_ to keep him company,” Sousuke reminds him. Makoto sighs and sits down beside Sousuke, bringing up his knees to his chest.

“You’re upset,” he says softly.

“Obviously,” Sousuke snorts. “I don’t know what Nanase’s problem is, but I hope Fuyumi is able to knock some sense into him so he stops making you upset. You’ve been saying his name in your sleep recently.”

Makoto blinks. Sousuke scratches the back of his neck, frowning hard at the floor.

“And… I don’t know. He’s just your best friend, but it still pisses me off that he’s pulling on you so much.”

“You know I would never leave you for Haru,” Makoto says, a little bit of hurt in his voice. Sousuke must’ve heard it, because he grits his teeth.

“I know that, but if he were to try anything…”

“He would never do that. And if you knew him, you’d get it,” Makoto says. His tone is gentle, but his words cut. Sousuke makes a face. “Please stop assuming things about Haru. You don’t know him.”

“He doesn’t want to meet _me_ any more than I want to meet _him!_ ” Sousuke snaps as Makoto gets to his feet.  

“That’s why I’m going to try to convince him to meet you at some point,” Makoto says. “...Even though he’s probably scared of you.”

He leaves the living room to go to the bathroom. Sousuke is quick to follow, glaring from the doorway.

“That went down a long time ago.”

“You said you would to punch him if you saw him,” Makoto points out. Sousuke gets an indignant look on his face, but Makoto continues, “And yes, I know you say and do things you don’t mean to when you’re really mad. I understand that you wouldn’t actually hurt anyone unless you’re defending yourself. But Haru doesn’t know that. _You,_ on the other hand, have no reason to be scared of Haru. Please stop being so stubborn.”

“Where the fuck did that come from?” Sousuke growls. Makoto doesn’t answer and instead pulls out his toothbrush and toothpaste. He starts brushing his teeth, trying to ignore Sousuke glaring at his reflection in the mirror. After a long time, Sousuke throws his hands up and walks out. “Fine! I’ll meet him, if it makes _you_ happy! Let’s have a _Nanase_ party right here so I can be best buddies with _Nanase!_ ”

Makoto heaves a sigh, finishes brushing his teeth, and runs a comb through his hair. He goes to the bedroom and finds Sousuke lounging on the bed. He’s facing the wall with his phone in hand, and he doesn’t look up when Makoto enters. Makoto silently opens the dresser and pulls out some clothes for himself. He gets dressed and tries to stop himself from shaking.

“Anything _you_ have ever told me about Nanase is about him being pissed off or hurt or confused or _whatever_. All because we’re _dating_ ,” Sousuke says. Makoto zips up his jeans and turns to face Sousuke. “So excuse _me_ if I’m not jumping at the chance to meet him.”

“ _God_ ,” Makoto breathes, rolling his eyes. He finishes dressing and leaves the room. At the door, he slowly puts on his shoes, coat, and a scarf. Sousuke doesn’t come to meet him at the door. Makoto takes a breath, “I’ll be back tomorrow!”

He doesn’t wait for an answer and slams the door shut behind him as he leaves.

\---

“Haru, something smells,” Makoto sniffs, looking around as he enters Haru’s apartment. “Really, what is that?”

“I don’t smell anything,” Haru says. He takes a whiff of the air and shakes his head. “It must be your imagination.”

“Hm,” Makoto hums, skeptical. He shrugs and grins at Haru, opening his arms to him. “It’s nice to see you.”

Haru stares blankly at him, unmoving.

“Don’t greet me like we haven’t seen each other in a year,” he deadpans. He turns and walks away, leaving Makoto hanging. Makoto laughs softly and trots after Haru. He’s aloof as ever, but he seems to be happier than he usually is.

“I was thinking that it’s been way too long since we actually went out and did something. Is there anything special that you want to do?” Makoto asks. Haru huffs at him.

“…You came here without a plan?” he asks. “Don’t pass the responsibility off on me.”

“O-Oh, well…” Makoto trails off. “Um… should we get something to eat? Maybe we could go to Tsukino’s?”

“No.”

“Hmm…” Makoto trails off, getting a little nervous. “Oh! M-Maybe we could play video games?”

“Hm.”

“Come _on_ , Haru,” Makoto urges. Haru sighs and thinks.

“...A movie?” he suggests. Makoto perks up and he smiles.

“You want to watch a movie? What movie?”

Haru frowns and shifts from foot to foot. For the first time in a long time, Makoto can read his face.

“You want to watch _The Little Mermaid?_ ” Makoto asks. Haru looks away.

“Not really,” he says, but his eyes clearly say ‘yes’. Makoto happily goes to Haru’s DVD shelf and picks out the well-worn Disney movie.

“I knew you’d pick this. It’s always been your favorite,” Makoto chirps, taking the movie out of the box and going to the television.

“Did something happen with Yamazaki?”

Makoto freezes. There’s a long, dreadful silence before Makoto clears his throat and inserts the movie into the DVD player.

“What do you mean?” Makoto asks. Haru sighs.

“…You’re forcing yourself to smile.”

“We had a little disagreement, yes. But we don’t have to talk about it,” Makoto says. “I’m here to be with you, not Sousuke.”

“It was about me, wasn’t it?”

Makoto turns to face Haru, who stares evenly back at him.

“It wasn’t--” Makoto begins.

“It was about me,” Haru concludes. He crosses his arms and looks away. “If you’re fighting about me, then maybe being here isn’t the best idea.”

“Haru,” Makoto whispers. Wringing his hands, he looks down at the floor. “But I want to be here. I want to spend time with you.”

“If you need to fix things with Yamazaki, you should,” Haru says.

“I want to stay here,” Makoto repeats. Haru clenches his jaw and doesn’t say a word.

“Fine,” he mutters. He turns away from Makoto to go to the couch. Makoto follows and sits beside him. There’s too much distance between the two of them, but Haru doesn’t make a move to get closer. Sighing, Makoto picks up the remote and starts the movie.

Makoto doesn’t really pay attention. Part of him really wants to pull his phone out to text Sousuke, but he doesn’t want to get upset. Especially not with Haru right next to him. The other part of him wants to maybe put his arm around Haru, or pet his hair, or even just rub his knee. But Haru doesn’t seem like he’s in the mood to be touched, his eyes transfixed on the television screen.

“Stop fidgeting,” Haru suddenly says. Makoto freezes as Haru looks over at him. “It’s distracting.”

“I can’t help it,” Makoto whines. Haru heaves a sigh, looks away for a moment, and then moves closer to Makoto. He’s a little hesitant and stiff as he leans up against him. The weight of his body is so comforting to Makoto that he can’t help but sweep Haru up into his arms and drag him closer. He snuggles Haru tightly, nuzzling his hair.

“What a pain,” Haru sighs, but he cuddles up close anyway. “You’re weird.”

“That’s my line,” Makoto laughs softly. They remain wrapped in each other’s arms for a long time. After a while, Makoto feels a sad knot forming in his heart. Rubbing Haru’s back, he shuts his eyes and lowers his head to his shoulder. “It’s been way too long.”

“…Yeah,” Haru agrees.

“I really care about you, you know,” Makoto whispers. Haru’s arms tighten around Makoto’s body and he nods once, silent. Makoto continues, “You mean the world to me.”

Haru tenses and starts to pull away. It’s much too soon, and Makoto clings to Haru a little. However, Haru pushes himself away, frowning. He sighs through his nose and looks away.

“Did you ask your friend if she can meet me?” he asks.

“Yes,” Makoto says. He furrows his brow and squirms with discomfort. “Really, what’s wrong?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Haru says. Makoto smiles and shakes his head.

“That’s impossible, Haru. You know I can’t just… _not_ worry about it.”

“It’s--” Haru begins. He’s interrupted as Makoto’s phone goes off in his pocket. Makoto groans; he already knows who it is. Sure enough, when he pulls out his phone, it’s Sousuke on the caller ID.

“I… really have to take this,” Makoto says carefully. Haru sighs and leans back on the couch, returning his eyes to the television screen.

“It’s fine. Fix things with your boyfriend.”

Makoto cringes at the tone of Haru’s voice and stands, bringing the phone to his ear. He wanders out of the living room and stands in the hallway.

“I’m busy. What is it, Sousuke?” he asks. He leans against the wall.

_“I don’t want to go to bed tonight on bad terms with you.”_

Makoto tips his head back to look at the ceiling.

“I’m not mad anymore. Just frustrated,” he says. “We’ll talk about it when I get home.”

_“No. I want to get this off my chest. It pisses me off that this whole problem is suddenly on my shoulders, even though I thought you knew why I don’t want to meet up with Nanase.”_

“Well, I’m sorry, but it’s getting kinda old. I get that you don’t want to meet up with him, and I get why. I know the thought of meeting him makes you angry,” Makoto assures him. He pauses and runs his hand through his hair, tugging slightly. “I’m _seriously_ feeling like I’m being pulled back and forth between the two of you. And I’ve _always_ tried to push you to meet him, and to understand him. But you keep fighting back.”

_“Do you put the same pressure on Nanase? Does Nanase get the ‘you need to get to know him’ lecture? Or is he excused because he gets pissed off whenever people tell him he needs to make compromises for people other than himself?”_

“That’s not it at _all!_ ” Makoto snaps. “This is _exactly_ what I’m talking about, you don’t know him at all but you keep assuming and assuming, and you don’t listen to me!”

_“You haven’t told me shit about him besides the fact that he thinks I’m the god damn devil!”_

“You refuse to listen anyway!”

 _“He has been assuming things about_ me _since day_ fucking _one!”_

“You haven’t given him a reason not...! I’m not doing this right now,” Makoto stops himself, shaking his head. “We’re not going to fight about this right now.”

Sousuke sighs loudly.

_“God damn it. You’re pissing me off so much.”_

“Well, I’m not too happy, either,” Makoto bites. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “We’ll talk more later. Please don’t call again unless you’re not going to yell. I’m not going to fight over the phone with you.”

_“Whatever.”_

Sousuke hangs up before Makoto can say anything else. He stands there for a moment, the phone still pressed to his ear.

“ _Uuuugggggh!_ ” he shouts, rearing his hand back like he’s going to throw his phone at the floor. He stops himself, takes a deep breath, and forces himself to relax. When he has composed himself a little, he returns to the living room. The movie is off now, and Haru is sitting there with a blank look on his face and his arms crossed.

“So you _can_ hold your own in a fight,” Haru comments. Makoto flashes him a smile, but it’s anything but kind.

“I’m _not_ in the mood, Haru,” he says through gritted teeth. He flops down on the couch and puts his head in his hand.

“Sorry,” Haru mutters. They sit in awkward silence for a long time.

“He can be such a child,” Makoto grumbles. He looks up at the ceiling and bounces his leg. Fighting always gives him the jitters. His teeth faintly chatter as adrenaline pulses through him. “I love him. But he is _seriously_ such a child sometimes.”

“You shouldn’t be here if you’re fighting over me,” Haru mumbles. Makoto glances at him. His head is down, guilt in his eyes. “If it makes you unhappy--”

“I’m happy being here with you. Sousuke isn’t.”

“So he’s being possessive.”

It isn’t a question. Makoto frowns.

“I’m… well… okay, maybe he’s being kind of possessive,” he admits. He quickly continues, “But he’s never really been this way, so--”

“Does that excuse it?”

“I…”

Haru pinches his lips together and crosses his arms. Makoto sighs.

“I wish you two would just _listen_ to me. If you knew each other, I think you’d really have a lot more in common than you think,” he insists. “Did you know Sousuke can cook? He makes a big mess all the time, but he can cook! That’s… um… well, that’s the only thing I can think of right now, but I know you and Sousuke would like each other if you got to know each other.”

“Probably not,” Haru mutters. Makoto groans and rolls his eyes so hard he almost gives himself a headache.

“I am so _sick_ of this!” he exclaims.

“Then stop worrying about it. Be with Yamazaki. You don’t have to force yourself to be here. Do your own thing. You’re capable of it, so just do it.”

“I’m not forcing myself to be here. And you say that, but you hate it, don’t you? You hate it that I’m with him.”

“No. I hate that he came along and--”

“Took me away from you,” Makoto finishes. Haru furrows his brow and gets a hurt look on his face. “I’m... I just... look, I’m sorry, but I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

He knows better. He knows he should keep on going and truly make Haru understand why this is upsetting him. All he can do is look down at his lap.

“...I’ll meet him,” Haru says slowly. Makoto blinks and looks up.

“Huh?”

“I’ll meet him. If it makes you happy,” Haru sighs. He leans up against the armrest and puts his chin in his hand.

“I... I mean, are you sure?”

“Yeah. It’s not a big deal.”

Makoto wants to scoff at that, but suppresses it. He doesn’t want to squander this chance.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Haru says. Makoto takes a breath to say something and shuts his mouth again. After a moment of thought, he tries again.

“Are you afraid of him?”

Haru’s pinky finger twitches on his lap and he doesn’t say a word.

“You’re afraid of him,” Makoto confirms. Haru snorts.

“Not really.”

“I don’t blame you. He told me what happened between you two,” Makoto explains. Haru’s fist clenches. “But he’s a different person. He’s very gentle and kind. And really, I think he has _always_ been very gentle. He just... gets anxious and puts up walls.”

“I see,” Haru says. He doesn’t say anything more.

“He doesn’t touch me until he knows that I know that I can say no at any time,” Makoto adds. He smiles faintly, rubbing his arm. “And he teases me a lot, but when I turn it around and tease him, he gets shy and--”

“Okay. Stop,” Haru interrupts. Makoto comes back down to earth just in time to catch Haru’s disgusted face. “I get it. I’ll meet him. I don’t need to know about all the gross details.”

“Is it really gross?”

“...No. But if you’re so in love, why are you fighting?” Haru asks. “I don’t get it.”

“Well of course we fight sometimes. We’ve been dating for over _two years_ , Haru. Sometimes we fight about stupid things. A couple months ago we got in a huge fight about where the milk goes in the fridge, and I ended up sleeping on the couch that night... and..." Makoto starts to laugh. “ _Why_ did we even fight about that?”

Haru frowns.

“You don’t like confrontation,” he says. “You never...”

“I don’t. But I need to confront things sometimes, right?” Makoto asks. “I used to be afraid of fighting with him. Now? I’m still nervous about it, but I know it has to be done sometimes. But we still love each other. Well... the fight we’re having right now is a bit more personal than where milk goes in the fridge. But it’s nothing to break up over, I don’t think.”

Haru hums thoughtfully.

“If anything, a fight every once and a while makes us stronger,” Makoto continues. “And... any fight I’ve had with him always ends with me loving him even more.”

“Does it have to be romantic love to get stronger after a fight?”

Taken aback by the question, Makoto glances over at Haru. However, Haru is looking away, chin in his palm. Smiling, Makoto shrugs.

“I think it can be any type of love.”

\---

Makoto wakes up to his phone vibrating. He had fallen asleep with his arm awkwardly curled up against his chest, cupping his phone against his sternum. Haru is clinging to him from behind, spooning him and snoring softly.

When he unlocks his phone, Makoto is momentarily blinded by the light. He squints against it to read the text Sousuke sent him:

_[Still made dinner for both of us. Yours is in the fridge for lunch tomorrow. Love you and sleep well.]_

Makoto clicks his phone off and tucks it back against his chest. Smiling to himself, he settles back against his pillow and slips into comfortable slumber.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friend [Diana](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com).  
> ***INTRODUCING OUR NEW SECONDARY EDITOR, [NICOLE](https://syniio.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Important
> 
> Since I work on Thanksgiving from 8AM-4PM, I may not get a chance to update at the regular time (noon EST). THERE WILL STILL BE AN UPDATE! But it will have to be sometime when I am free, which could mean anywhere from noon to after 4. I apologize for the inconvenience!

“You didn’t tell me I have to go to an event.”

Makoto laughs nervously as he watches Haru cook breakfast. He’s got an uncomfortable look on his face as he pokes at a piece of mackerel on the grill.

“I’m sorry! I forgot to mention it,” Makoto apologizes. “And it’s not like I want to go, either. It’s haunted!”

“Hmph. Get back to chopping the onions,” Haru commands. Makoto grimaces and turns back to the cutting board. He hasn’t touched any kitchen utensils in a while; not since cutting his finger while cooking with Sousuke.

“I wish Sato-san wasn’t forcing me to go to something scary,” Makoto whines, squinting as the onion makes his eyes water. He chops unevenly, sending several chunks to the floor. Haru side-eyes him, lips tight.

“Watch your thumb,” Haru warns. Makoto glances down. His thumbnail is right in the path of the knife. He chops slower, carefully pulling his thumb in.

“Sorry,” he says, flustered.

“You’re fine,” Haru assures him. “Focus.”

“So um... are you still interested in meeting her, then?”

“...Yeah,” Haru says, irritation in his voice. “I don’t have a choice.”

“You must really want to talk to her. I’m really worried,” Makoto tries, wanting to push Haru to open up, but he remains firmly guarded.

“It’s my own problem,” he says. Makoto tries to keep his mouth shut and fails.

“Is there someone you like?”

“Don’t.”

“...Are… are they in our friend group?”

“ _Stop_ it,” Haru snaps. Makoto squirms.

“I’m sorry, Haru. I’m just so worried,” he says. He finishes chopping the onions and scrapes them into a bowl. He puts the cutting board in the sink and turns on the faucet. “Why do you have to keep it a secret from me?”

“...Just let me figure it out. Stop being nosy,” Haru says. Makoto groans.

“Just _promise_ me you’re going to be okay?” he pleads.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine!” Makoto exclaims. “You’re hurting and I can’t do anything. _Again_.”

“I can’t tell you because I don’t understand it myself!” Haru yells without warning. He withdraws immediately, his face dark as he pokes at the mackerel some more.

“Haru…” Makoto whispers. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay.”

“I guess if it can’t be helped, then...” Makoto sighs. Just as he’s about to say something else, he looks down at the sink. It’s not draining. “Whoa! Haru, your sink--”

“Just turn on the garbage disposal,” Haru instructs. Makoto nods and flips the switch above the sink. The disposal activates, but the water doesn’t go down.

“Um...” Makoto trails off. After a moment, the sink finally drains. Makoto peers into the sink, a little worried that it’s going to explode. “Is something going on in the pipes?”

“I don’t know.”

“You should really talk to the landlord!”

“Too much effort,” Haru sniffs. Makoto laughs helplessly; there’s no way he can work a pool into this to get Haru to take responsibility.

“Well, anyway. I’ll stop asking you about it. But you have to get better,” Makoto says. He tries to sound stern, but his voice falters. “Please, Haru?”

Haru gives him a very small, comforting smile.

“Yeah.”

\---

Makoto comes home after class at around four in the afternoon. He slowly pushes the front door open and tiptoes inside. Sousuke’s shoes are here, so he’s home. Relieved, Makoto takes off his shoes and jacket.

“I’m home,” he calls, a little nervous.

“I’m in here,” Sousuke replies from the kitchen. Makoto peeks his head in the doorway to see Sousuke leaning over the sink with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he washes rice. “Can you wash the rice? I have to cut the chicken.”

“Oh. Yeah,” Makoto says. He rolls up his sleeves and takes Sousuke’s place at the sink. They say nothing, the only sound coming from the knife tapping against the cutting board and the swishing rice. With every passing second, the noises become louder and louder. Uneasy, Makoto racks his mind for something, _anything_ to talk about. _Should_ he even say anything?

“How was class?” Sousuke suddenly asks. Makoto swallows hard and shrugs.

“Um... they were okay. How about yours?”

“Boring.”

Makoto laughs softly, but Sousuke doesn’t. Makoto breaks into a cold sweat, his heart rate picking up.

“...Did you eat those leftovers for lunch?”

“Mhm. You were already gone when I stopped home, so I just grabbed it and left. It was really good,” Makoto babbles. Sousuke grunts and continues slicing chicken breasts. Makoto takes a quivering breath, “What’s for dinner?”

“...Green curry chicken and rice,” Sousuke mumbles. A small smile appears on Makoto’s face, but he doesn't look at Sousuke.

“That’s my favorite.”

“Mm.”

Makoto washes the rice faster. He doesn’t pay attention to what he’s doing and accidentally moves too quickly, making rice slosh out of the pot and into the sink.

“Ah!” he gasps, jumping.

“Oi. Watch it,” Sousuke says, putting his knife down and holding out his soiled hands. “Move the faucet towards me?”

Makoto pushes the faucet to Sousuke and turns on the hot water. He squirms with discomfort while Sousuke rinses off.

“Um--” Makoto begins. Sousuke grabs a dish towel and dries his hands. Makoto stares down at the sink, his whole body tensed. It irritates him that Sousuke doesn’t seem as riled up as he is. Does he even remember that they’re fighting? Is he mad? Is he upset? Sad?

“Makoto,” Sousuke murmurs. Makoto steels himself and dares to look up at Sousuke’s eyes. They reflect Makoto’s anxiousness and concern. His gaze is burning—there’s definitely anger there. But there’s something else, too.

“What?” Makoto questions. “Is something wrong?”

Without a word, Sousuke trails his hand down the small of his back and to his ass, kneading slowly. Licking his lips, Makoto forgets about the rice and braces his hands on the lip of the sink. He lowers his head and shuts his eyes, letting Sousuke run his hand up and down the curve of his ass.

“...You really want to do this right now?” Makoto asks, shivering. His voice is already strained as he breathes a little harder, unconsciously moving his hips back against Sousuke’s hand.

“You don’t want to?” Sousuke asks, dipping deeper and pressing between Makoto’s clothed ass cheeks with his first two fingers. His voice is deep and a touch cold, making Makoto’s knees weak.

“I want to,” Makoto sighs. “But--”

“We’ll talk about it after,” Sousuke whispers in his ear. Makoto shudders and moans softly. “I want you _now_.”

“Okay,” Makoto agrees. He reaches back to loop an arm around Sousuke’s neck and turns his head to kiss him. Aching for more, he moans into Sousuke’s mouth. Sousuke only bites his lip, denying him warmth and making him whimper. When he pulls away, he roughly spins Makoto around and pins him against the counter. Their kisses become even more heated and intense, but before Makoto can melt into them, Sousuke pulls away and grabs his hand.

“W-Wait, the chicken...” Makoto starts. “...It should go in the fridg--”

“Don’t care.”

Sousuke tugs him out of the kitchen and hurries down the hall to the bedroom, his hand holding Makoto’s so tightly that it almost hurts. Makoto eagerly follows him and kicks the door shut behind them. They resume kissing, which quickly turns into nipping and biting. Part of Makoto yearns for the usual warmth to return, but the other part of him relishes in the pained sound Sousuke makes when he chomps down on his bottom lip.

They fall onto the bed, feverishly grabbing at each other’s clothes and tugging. Makoto lets Sousuke tear his shirt off and throw it aside, then reaches out to help Sousuke out of his own. Sousuke smacks his hands away and strips it off himself.

He’s wearing his brace.

For a moment, Makoto hesitates, saddened to see it, but Sousuke reaches out and roughly grabs his face.

“Don’t you _dare_ look at me like that,” he breathes. “Don’t pity me.”

He leans down and pulls Makoto into a searing kiss, wiping the pitiful look right off his face and shoving his tongue into his mouth. Arching his body, Makoto reaches between them and fumbles with Sousuke’s belt buckle.

Again, Sousuke slaps his hands away and sits up to take off Makoto’s pants and briefs instead, leaving him naked and quivering. Before Makoto can squeeze his thighs shut, Sousuke grabs his knees and pushes them apart. Squirming with the embarrassment of having his legs spread wide open, Makoto pants and closes his eyes as his cock twitches hard against his abdomen.

“D-Don’t stare,” he whispers, covering his face with his wrists.

Sousuke doesn’t say anything, but Makoto hears him open the bedside drawer, followed by the sound of the lubricant cap popping open. He has little time to brace himself before Sousuke pushes a cold, wet finger into his ass and curls. He hesitates at Makoto’s gasp of surprise, but continues when Makoto melts into the sheets and grabs at the pillow beneath his head.

Fingers still buried in Makoto’s ass, Sousuke pushes the front of his pants down, grabs a condom waiting by his knee, and rips it open with his teeth. The lust in his eyes makes Makoto moan and want to hide his face again. Instead, he bites his lip and grinds down on Sousuke’s fingers, triumphing in the small grunt it elicits from Sousuke’s lips.

Just as Makoto is getting tired of preparation, Sousuke finishes rolling the condom onto his cock and removes his fingers so he can slick himself with lube. Their gazes meet as Sousuke hooks his arms under Makoto’s knees and shuffles closer. For a while he doesn’t move, waiting. It takes Makoto a second to realize what he’s waiting for, and he gives a short nod.

Sousuke thrusts in all at once and Makoto cries out at the sudden movement. His erection, which had flagged slightly, quickly hardens again at the sharp sting of Sousuke’s thick cock pushing inside of him. Tears well in his eyes and he grits his teeth. He takes the time Sousuke gives him to adjust and catch his breath. It doesn’t usually hurt like this; Sousuke never slacks off with preparation. But this is the exact kind of pain Makoto wants, the pain he craves, and he can’t help the moan that leaves his lips.

“Go,” Makoto wheezes before the pain has faded all the way. Sousuke sets his jaw and starts to thrust, rapidly building up to a brutally fast pace. The anger that had faded during preparation comes back with a vengeance: Makoto can see it in his face, and feel it in the force behind his hips. Anger ignites in Makoto as well, and his forgotten frustrations bubble back to the surface.

Sousuke releases Makoto’s legs and doubles over, bracing himself with a hand on either side of Makoto’s ribcage. Makoto grabs hold of his biceps and wraps his legs around Sousuke’s hips, driving him deeper inside of him. They don’t say a word to each other; nothing dirty, no sweet nothings. Makoto’s cries occupy the silence, peppered by Sousuke’s groans.

“More. Harder,” Makoto hisses. Sousuke scowls and settles his weight on top of Makoto, scooping his hands under his shoulders and using them as leverage as he thrusts harder. Unsatisfied, Makoto demands more, “ _Faster!_ ”

Sousuke lets out a grunt and slams into him faster. Throwing his arms around Sousuke’s shoulders, Makoto cries out and tosses his head back. His nails dig into Sousuke’s sweaty back, and he gets his hair yanked in response. Tears spill from his eyes and drip down onto the pillow below. He’s so angry and fed up and hot, yet the caduceus pendant sliding up and down his chest with every thrust sends chills through his body.

Faintly, Makoto feels Sousuke’s teeth sink into his shoulder and bite hard, making him keen. His toes curl and he rakes his nails up Sousuke’s back, scratching into his skin and drawing blood. Sousuke snarls against his flesh and sinks his teeth in deeper. The pleasure and the pain send Makoto’s eyes rolling back. The familiar ache in his hips is the only warning he gets before he cums and gasps Sousuke’s name into his ear.

Sousuke sits up and gives three more sharp thrusts. Groaning, he tips his head back and lets his mouth hang open as he cums. His hips give a few weak twitches before he lets out a long exhale and goes still.

Makoto covers his eyes with his hands and fights to catch his breath. Sousuke slowly pulls out and tosses the condom in the general direction of the wastebasket. When Makoto looks, Sousuke’s perched on the edge of the bed, his head in his hand. As the high of his orgasm fades, Makoto feels his shoulder aching. He doesn’t have to look to know that there are puncture wounds there. There will be a bad bruise there later, but that is the least of Makoto’s worries.

“Tell me why this whole Nanase problem is my fault,” Sousuke rasps. He clears his throat. Makoto sits up and smooths back his messy hair.

“I never _said_ it was your fault,” Makoto says. “I just said that I want you to stop being so stubborn about it.”

“ _I’m_ the stubborn one?” Sousuke asks. He snorts. “And Nanase _isn’t?_ Look, Makoto, I’ve _never_ told you that you can’t be friends with Nanase. But he thinks it’s okay to tell you not to date me?”

“He... hasn’t said anything like that,” Makoto says. Sousuke scowls.

“That’s a fucking lie and you know it.”

“He really hasn’t! He’s just really worried!” Makoto insists. “Like I said, he only thinks--”

“That I’m a piece of shit. Yeah, I’ve heard it before. I’m an out of control, violent jackass. Right?” Sousuke sneers. “That’s what he thinks.”

Makoto frowns and Sousuke looks momentarily pained before looking sharply away.

“This is bullshit. I can’t fucking believe I have to compete with Nanase over this. Over you.”

“It doesn’t _have_ to be a competition. I love _both_ of you!” Makoto cries. “Haru is my _best friend!_ ”

They go silent for a long time. Makoto takes deep, shuddering breaths. His heart pounds in his chest, and he feels like he’s going to throw up. They both take some time to collect themselves and organize their thoughts. The tension ebbs as time passes. Makoto relaxes a little and sighs, rubbing his temples.

“Look, I--” “I thi--” Sousuke and Makoto say at the same time. They fall back into silence.

“You can go first,” Makoto whispers after a moment.

“...You turned on me and I felt attacked,” Sousuke mutters. “I felt like I was being blamed entirely for this mess with Nanase. It pissed me off. Like I said before, I’m not the only one who doesn’t want to meet up.”

“... Um, actually, Haru is willing to meet up with you,” Makoto says. Sousuke blinks and whips his head towards him, brows creased.

“What?”

“He said he’d be willing to meet you,” Makoto repeats. Sousuke looks away again and scratches his arm, scowling. Makoto proceeds carefully, “So there isn’t an excuse anymore.”

“I know!” Sousuke snaps. “God _damn_ it.”

“I think you should come to the Halloween event,” Makoto says. “That way, meeting Haru doesn’t have to be anything formal. Just... please try to keep an open mind.”

“Keep an open mind,” Sousuke echoes. He scoffs, shakes his head, and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Alright, _fine_. I’ll meet him. But... if he so much as...”

Sousuke holds up his thumb and forefinger, squinting at the tiny space between them and shaking.

“If he tries to get between us again, it’s done. I swear to god, I’ll be done with him. Permanently,” Sousuke threatens. “I’m dead serious.”

“Okay,” Makoto says. He gulps and feels the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. “Don’t... don’t hurt him.”

Sousuke coughs out a bitter laugh and rubs his temples.

“Jesus. Even you think I’m some monster, don’t you?”

“You’re not a monster,” Makoto says. His voice is weak and trembling. “But you’re being possessive and...”

Sousuke clenches his fists.

“If you ever wanted to leave me, I would let you,” he says. Makoto’s throat constricts. “If you seriously wanted to break up with me, I wouldn’t tell you no. If you wanted to live with Nanase instead, I would let you!”

“But I _don’t_ want that.”

“Okay, so then _how_ exactly am I being possessive? You can walk out at any time!” Sousuke says. He sweeps his hand toward the door. “The door is right there!”

“You... you got upset when I wanted to spend time with Haru!”

“Of _course_ I was upset!” Sousuke exclaims, turning and gesturing to himself. “But I would _never_ tell you no. That’s not my _damn_ choice! But still, it makes me anxious. _Nanase’s_ possessiveness of you makes me nervous. And you think I like that _one_ bit?”

Makoto puts his head down in his hands. He hears Sousuke sigh.

“I’ll go to the stupid event. And I’ll meet him, if it makes you happy. But if you think for a _second_ that I’m the only one who should make an effort, I’ll shut it down. I’m not going to get kicked around by that guy,” Sousuke growls. “And I won’t be kicked around by _you_ , either.”

“ _Sousuke_ ,” Makoto chokes. “I didn’t--”

“You didn’t mean it that way?” Sousuke bites. “Well, it sure feels like it. Especially when this whole situation is, apparently, _my_ fault and _my_ responsibility to fix.”

Makoto feels his eyes start to sting and looks up at the ceiling. He blinks rapidly and bites his lip, trying with all of his might not to cry. Sousuke gets up from the bed and hikes up his pants, buttoning them. He stoops down to pick up his shirt and pulls it over his head. However, he moves his right arm a bit awkwardly and lets out a hiss of pain. Makoto snaps his head up, about to ask him if he’s okay, but he bites it back. For a moment, Sousuke stands there with his hand gripping his right shoulder. He gives it a quick roll, cracks his neck, and brushes it off.

“I’m going to go finish dinner and clean up the kitchen. You can eat before me, I’m going to shower when dinner’s done,” Sousuke says, going to the door and opening it. “And you can have the bed tonight.”

He slams the door shut behind him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friends [Diana](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com) and [Nicole](https://syniio.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***IMPORTANT***
> 
> Many, if not all, of you are aware of what is happening in the U.S. regarding Ferguson (if you are not aware, you can get up to speed with some simple Google searches). While this is a fanfiction and we often come to read fanfiction to _escape_ the real world, there comes a time when we must take responsibility to stand up for justice for all, especially those who have been historically and systemically oppressed. I assume all of you are all for LGBTQ+ rights, correct? Why else would you be here? Standing up for the rights of the oppressed includes the rights, justice, and equality of black people. Please consider donating to any of the following links to support the Ferguson protesters. Thank you so much!
> 
> [Ferguson Defense Fund](https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/ferguson-defense-fund) || [Organization for Black Struggle](http://obs-onthemove.org/contact-obs/)
> 
> Can't donate? Please consider signing [this petition to require police officers to wear body cameras.](https://www.change.org/p/police-chief-jon-belmar-require-ferguson-and-st-louis-county-and-city-police-officers-to-wear-body-cameras)
> 
> **Do not use comments to discuss Ferguson. These links are here as a resource, not debate fuel. Any and all comments that are not about FEFSKY will be deleted. If you would like to talk about Ferguson, consider the [#Ferguson tag](https://tumblr.com/search/ferguson) on tumblr, or the [#Ferguson tag](https://twitter.com/hashtag/ferguson) on twitter!

The last week of October is quiet.

Sousuke busies himself with schoolwork, and most of his time is spent at the library or elsewhere. He doesn’t spend more than two nights on the couch, claiming stiffness in his neck, but he and Makoto have been keeping to their own sides of the bed.

Makoto almost feels like his body isn’t his own. He goes through his daily activities like clockwork. Get up. Go to class. Eat lunch. More classes. Come home. Schoolwork. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. He absolutely despises fighting with Sousuke, but he knows that it won’t end until Haru and Sousuke manage to come to some sort of truce.

After class on Monday, October 31st, Makoto goes to Sato’s place to help her get ready for the event. Sato’s apartment is pretty disorganized and messy; the sink is full, magazines are scattered all over the dining table, and Makoto can’t go two seconds without finding an article of clothing on the floor. Sato claims it’s her roommates, but Makoto’s pretty sure she shares equal blame.

Makoto slumps onto Sato’s bed, watching his friend as she sits in front of her mirror and smears black makeup on her nose.

“Fumi-chan was right, this stuff does smell weird,” Sato sniffles, wrinkling her nose. “Did it go bad? Can you smell it? Mako-kun? Hellooo?”

Makoto jumps and blinks.

“Oh! Sorry. I don’t smell anything,” he laughs. Sato frowns at Makoto’s reflection in the mirror.

“Are you sure you want to come? I won’t force you if you’re not feeling up to it,” she says. Makoto shakes his head and sighs.

“I have to. I promised Haru. I can’t let him down,” he mumbles.

“You and Sousuke-kun are still fighting, huh?” Sato asks. Makoto groans.

“ _Yes_ ,” he whines. “I don’t think we’ve said more than ten words to each other since last week Monday.”

“Yeeesh,” Sato hisses. “That bad?”

“Mhm,” Makoto hums. He resists the urge to lie down in Sato’s bed and curl up in a ball.

“Well, stay positive! At the event, I can talk to Sousuke-kun and we’ll--”

“Don’t,” Makoto interrupts. It takes a lot of effort to keep his voice sounding lighthearted. “... _Please_ don’t. This is between me and Sousuke.”

“But--”

“We don’t need help,” Makoto insists, a bit of edge to his voice. Sato throws up her hands in surrender.

“Okay, okay. I won’t say anything. Jeez.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just really stressed,” Makoto says. He rubs his aching temples, nursing the headache. “They’re _both_ coming tonight, and I don’t even know... ugh, this is going to be so messy. I know it.”

“Hey. Stay positive,” Sato repeats, her voice stern. Makoto looks at her reflection and sees whiskers drawn onto her face. Unable to help himself, he starts to snicker. Sato grins back at him. “Hush, you. You could look cute, too, if you wore a costume. _Hmmm?_ ”

“No thank you!”

“You’d rather go as a college student? That’s so overdone,” Sato teases. Makoto laughs again. It’s a weak, tiny laugh, but it feels good nonetheless.

“Is that so?”

“Try to cheer up. I know Sousuke-kun is going to be all broody and grumpy,” Sato says, making an impression of Sousuke’s face by pulling her cheeks down and making a cranky face. Makoto laughs louder. “It’d be nice to have at least one person with us who can smile.”

“I just _really_ hope it’s not too scary,” Makoto frets, still giggling a little as he fidgets.

“Jeeeez, Mako-kun. It’s not scary!” Sato exclaims. “The volunteers aren’t even allowed to touch you.”

“Mnn,” Makoto whines. “Don’t laugh at me if I scream.”

“I’ll pay you a thousand yen if you actually scream,” Sato scoffs. “That’s how totally un-scary this event is going to be.”

“I don’t think you get it, Sato-san,” Makoto sighs. His phone goes off in his pocket. Pulling it out, Makoto sees a new text from Sousuke.

_[Where are you?]_

_[Sato-san’s.]_ Makoto texts back.

_[K. Still going to the Halloween thing?]_

_[Yes. Are you coming?]_

Sousuke doesn’t text back right away. Sighing, Makoto looks up at Sato, who is putting a black headband on her head with cat ears on it.

“Like it?” Sato asks with a big grin.

“It’s cute,” Makoto compliments. “Do you have a tail?”

“Nah. I don’t want some weirdo grabbing it and pulling.”

Sato gets to her feet and looks at herself in the mirror. She’s dressed in black with a big red bow around her neck.

“You definitely look like a cat,” Makoto says. Sato winks and smiles widely. “A bobtail cat.”

“Hey!”

Makoto’s phone vibrates and he looks down.

_[I’ll come. Meet you there.]_

A knot settles in Makoto’s stomach. He really doesn’t know how this meetup is going to go, and he’s not sure if he’s ready to find out. He’s not even sure that _they’re_ ready to find out. The thought of something horrible happening makes his heart twist.

“Mako-kun?”

Makoto looks up just in time for Sato to lean down right in front of him and put a hand on his shoulder. She squeezes.

“I promise everything is going to be okay.”

\---

“This is his apartment, right here,” Makoto says, pointing. Sato turns into the parking lot and parks. From the bottom of the staircase of his apartment, Haru spots the car rolling in and walks toward them. Makoto gets out of the car and grins. “Hey, Haru-chan!”

“Don’t even start,” Haru grumps. Makoto giggles while Sato hops out and bounces up to Haru.

“Hi there! I’m Sato Fuyumi,” she says cheerfully. She gives a little bow.

“...I’m--”

“Nanase Haruka! It’s great to finally meet you!” Sato interrupts, grinning. Haru flashes Makoto a look, but Makoto just puts his hands up in surrender.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Haru says politely.

“Mako-kun has told me so much about you! You know, I thought you’d be waaay taller, but you’re almost as short as me!” Sato exclaims. She stands up straight and puts her hand on the top of her head. She compares their heights; Haru is only a few inches taller. “So close! Oh well. So you’re a pro swimmer, huh? That’s so cool!”

“...Not really,” Haru says, looking away. Makoto laughs.

“Hop in! There’s a little time before the tour starts, so we can have pizza,” Sato says. The three of them get into the car and Sato heads back towards campus.

“Makoto,” Haru suddenly says. Makoto turns in his seat as Haru stares at him. “Are you going to be okay?”

Makoto waves his hand dismissively.

“I’ll be fine, Haru,” he says. He takes a breath, “But just so you know, Sousuke is coming, too.”

Haru frowns, visibly floored, but leans back in his seat and stares blankly out the window.

“I see.”

“He’s willing to meet you. Just... please, _please_ keep an open mind.”

“You don’t have to tell me that.”

Makoto wants to scoff at that, but he holds it back and fiercely tries to swallow his worries.

“Mako-kun, how’re you doing?” Sato asks. Makoto turns to her, a strained smile on his face.

“Nervous,” he says. It’s not a lie, he’s nervous about the haunted stuff, too. But that’s certainly not the only reason he’s fidgeting and developing a bellyache.

“Mako-kun again,” Haru comments quietly, almost like he’s talking to himself. Makoto looks over his shoulder.

“What was that?”

“She has a nickname for you. Why do you call her ‘-san’?”

Sato laughs.

“When we first met, he was really shy and formal. The ‘-san’ just stuck, and here we are. You don’t have to call me that, Haru-kun. Or would you prefer Haru-chan?”

Makoto laughs at the way Haru’s nose wrinkles in disgust.

“Haru doesn’t like nicknames very much.”

“Oh! Then should I call him Haruka?”

“Absolutely _not_ ,” Haru says.

Makoto and Sato laugh while Haru crosses his arms and pouts.

“I like you, Haru-kun! You’re so cute,” Sato coos.

“ _Haru_ is fine,” Haru grumps.

“Haru it is!”

Makoto relaxes, soothed by the lighthearted bickering. He wills his heart rate to slow and closes his eyes. Bringing his clammy hands to his face, he blows warm air into them and says a short prayer. It’s going to be fine. Everything is going to be fine.

Quite a few people have shown up for the Halloween event, so it takes Sato a few minutes to find a parking space outside the university center. When she does, Makoto steps out of the car and scans the lot for the familiar black Toyota Allion.

“I hope Sousuke-kun gets scared. I wanna take a Vine of the look on his face,” Sato says, pumping her fist and smiling deviously. Haru grimaces.

“You don’t like Yamazaki?”

“I _love_ Sousuke-kun!”

Makoto laughs at Haru’s confused expression and returns to watching for Sousuke.

“It looks like he isn’t here yet,” he sighs. “Lead the way, Sato-san.”

Sato salutes and leads them towards the central building, where a group of about twenty to thirty people are gathered up. Some of them are in costume, but most of them are in casual wear.

“Fuyumi-kun, it’s nice to see you.”

Sato grins as Nori appears, waving. He’s wearing a witch’s hat and shorts with striped stockings.

“I brought Mako-kun, and his friend Haru,” Sato announces, gesturing to Makoto and Haru.

“Welcome! So glad you could come!” Nori says, clasping Makoto’s hand in his, then turning to face Haru. Haru awkwardly puts his hand out for Nori to grasp. “Nice to meet you, Haru! I’m Honda Minori, but everyone calls me Nori-chan!”

“...Ah,” Haru says.

“I hope you guys enjoy the tour tonight. At the end, you can donate to the LGBTQ group so we can raise more awareness here on campus. Please consider donating!” Nori says. With that, he leaves to greet another group of people who have just shown up.

“A middle-aged man who calls himself seaweed?” Haru asks. Makoto giggles.

“Well, it’s easy to remember his name,” he points out. Haru gives him a tiny smile. Meanwhile, Sato spots something over their shoulders and starts to wave frantically.

“Hey, Sousuke-kun!”

Makoto’s heart stops as Haru tenses beside him. They turn at the same time to watch Sousuke walking towards them with his hands shoved in his pockets. He’s wearing a cap, a hoodie, and track pants. His eyes flick to Haru, who stares evenly back at him.

“Yo,” Sousuke says. He catches Makoto’s gaze and holds it for a moment, then goes to Sato. She bounces up and down.

“Do you like my costume?”

“What are you supposed to be?”

“Um, don’t you see the ears? A cat, _duh_.”

“No tail?”

“ _Jeez_ , you too?!”

Makoto looks down, a ghost of a smile still frozen on his face. Haru flashes him a concerned look.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he says. His voice cracks. Haru frowns and furrows his brows.

“You’re lying,” he states.

“Of course I’m lying,” Makoto whispers.

Haru reaches out and puts a hand on Makoto’s back. He gives it an awkward pat.

“Makoto. Nanase. It’s starting.”

They turn to face Sousuke and Sato, who are waiting as the rest of the tour group starts walking.

“Sorry,” Makoto apologizes, hurrying forward. Haru tags behind.

“How was class today?” Sousuke asks. As he does, he takes Makoto’s hand in his. Confused but not displeased, Makoto squeezes his hand back and flashes him a puzzled smile.

“Um, they were okay, I guess!” he chirps. However, Sousuke doesn’t appear to be listening. He’s side-eyeing Haru over his shoulder. When Makoto glances back to look, Haru is downright _scowling_.

It clicks. Shaking his head a little, Makoto wriggles his hand out of Sousuke’s grip.

“Sorry, my hands are kinda sweaty,” Makoto says with a plastered-on smile. Sousuke shoves his hand in his pocket, glowering. Now Haru is side-eyeing Sousuke, and it takes all of Makoto’s strength not to groan out loud.

“It’s kinda chilly,” Sato complains. Taking the chance to escape Haru and Sousuke’s staring contest, Makoto speeds up to walk alongside Sato.

“You can have my jacket, if you want,” Makoto offers, even though his own nose is a little cold. Sato laughs.

“But then my outfit wouldn’t match! No can do, Mako-kun.”

Up ahead, Nori starts telling a haunted story. Makoto tunes it out as best as he can, but can’t help cringing at the mention of cannibalism.

“What do you think humans taste like?” Sato asks. Makoto shudders.

“Sato-san, _please_ don’t,” he whimpers. Sato smirks.

“Do you think they taste like... chicken or beef?”

“Chicken.”

Haru’s sudden voice behind Makoto makes him jump and squeak. Sousuke lets out an almost inaudible snort.

“Don’t sneak up behind me!” Makoto cries, looking back at Haru.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, walking in between Sato and Makoto, as if to defend him from her antics.

“You really are jumpy!” Sato teases. “Maybe I’m going to have to use that to my advantage!”

“ _Noooo!”_

“Fuyumi, he’s actually freaked out. Lay off,” Sousuke says, materializing at Makoto’s side. His lips are twitching, like he’s trying to hold back a laugh. Makoto puffs up his cheeks and huffs. Sato winks.

“Fine, fine. I was kidding anyway. Don’t worry, Mako-kun! Sousuke-kun, Haru, and I are going to keep you safe!”

Makoto glances at Sousuke to his left, then at Haru and Sato to his right. At least he isn’t alone. That small comfort is all he needs to take a deep breath and relax, at least for a little while.

The first ‘haunted house’ is a walk through the main hall of the foreign languages building. Black cloth has covered every inch of the walls and floors, and black lights have been set up. The lights reveal mysterious glowing goop and fake cobwebs. Beside Makoto, Sousuke scoffs. Haru is silent. Sato’s teeth are glowing in the black light because she’s smiling so wide.

Makoto is busy trying not to cling to the nearest thing he can find.

“Okaaay. _Okay_ ,” he whispers to himself. He gravitates towards Haru and grabs the back of his coat as tightly as he can.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Haru soothes.

“But the blood on the floor--”

“Not real.”

Makoto gulps and nods shakily, huddling closer to Haru. He feels a warm, familiar hand on the small of his back and looks over his shoulder at Sousuke. He just manages to see Sousuke give him a small smile in the dim light, and it provides Makoto with a little bit of comfort.

“And here is where the axe murderer actu--” Nori starts, but he is interrupted by a shrill scream from behind the tour group. Everyone whirls around just in time to see glowing liquid fly out from around the corner and splatter all over the floor. A second later, a figure emerges and starts running after them down the hallway, an axe raised above their head.

Half the group screams, the other half laughs. Makoto is among the ones who scream. He grabs Haru’s arm in a vice grip as the tour group runs out of the building and back into the night. The ‘axe murderer’ doesn’t follow them.

Sato is laughing hysterically.

“I saw the bucket they were using to pour that stuff out!” she guffaws, holding her gut. “Oh _man!_ ”

“Are you okay?” Haru asks. Feeling like an empty husk, Makoto dizzily stumbles alongside Haru and tries to swallow his heart.

“I’m gonna die tonight,” he whimpers. “ _Haruuu_...”

“If you’re scared, we should just go home,” Sousuke mutters. He eyes Haru, squinting at the way Makoto is clinging to him. His fists clench.

“But I promised I would stay,” Makoto protests.

“Stop forcing yourself to do things to make other people happy,” Sousuke sighs. He looks away, glaring. “You’re uncomfortable, so let’s leave.”

“Makoto can do what he wants,” Haru says. Sousuke’s eyes flash with anger.

“He _didn’t want_ to do this from day _one_ , but because _you_ had to talk to Fuyu--”

“Oh my god, chill out,” Sato groans. “You guys aren’t making this fun for anyone.”

“And _you’re_ the one who guilt-tripped him into coming,” Sousuke snaps.

“Wow, I--”

“Quit it!” Makoto exclaims. “Just stop! I want to finish this, okay? I want to be here. Stop fighting.”

Everyone falls silent as Makoto lets go of Haru and walks forward with his arms crossed.

“C’mon you guys, let’s have fun,” Sato urges.

“Whatever,” Sousuke grumbles. Haru stays silent.

The next haunted hall is in the science building, which is decorated to look like an abandoned laboratory. Thankfully, there aren’t any jump-scares, but Nori’s next horror story makes up for it. Makoto walks ahead, arms wrapped around himself as he tunes out images of a rampaging lab experiment wearing the skin of its victims.

The third and final haunted hall is in the literature and language arts building, and it’s the scariest of them all. It’s deceptively plain: there aren’t as many decorations, but there are twice as many jump-scares. The lights in the hall are set to flicker, and every scare makes Makoto squeak or yelp or downright scream. A fake spider dropping from the ceiling almost makes him topple to the floor. The revving of a chainsaw in one of the classrooms has him nearly jumping into the arms of a stranger in the tour group.

By the end, Makoto is shivering so hard his teeth are chattering. He doesn’t even have the voice to scream anymore, but jumps violently at every turn. Sato won’t stop laughing at him and every cheap trick, poorly made costume, or gimmicky prop she sees. Haru and Sousuke, on the other hand, are starting to look a little uncomfortable. When a scarecrow jumps out from an open classroom door, they instinctively reach for anything to grab onto--which happens to be each other. The moment they realize it, they wrench themselves away from each other and look away.

At the final turn, the lights turn off. The tour group murmurs amongst themselves, and a couple girls let out a shriek and start laughing. When the lights flick back on, a woman in a tattered white dress stands at the end of the hall and lets out a blood-curdling scream. Makoto’s body freezes and his heart stops, his pupils blowing wide. The hall starts to spin around him and he teeters on his feet right before his vision goes black.

\---

The next time Makoto opens his eyes, he’s laid out on a bench in the cool night air. His eyelids flutter and the first thing he sees is Sato’s face. Her cheeks are splotchy and tears are pouring down her face as she bawls. Her kitty whiskers are all smeared and messy.

“Mako-kun, I’m so _sorry_!” she wails. Makoto groans and sits up partway. Haru and Sousuke are standing nearby, both of them silent. They’re back at the university center, where a few lingering students from the tour are talking and eating nearby.

“What happened?” Makoto rasps.

“You fainted and we carried you out here. The university paramedics are coming,” Sousuke mutters. Haru’s frown deepens and he stuffs his hands in his pockets. “I _told_ you we should’ve left.”

“Mako-kun, I never would’ve forced you if I kn-knew this was what would happen!” Sato cries. “I’m really, really... I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay, Sato-san,” Makoto soothes. He sits up fully and pats her head.

“It’s _not_ okay,” Sato sniffles. “I’m _so_ sorry.”

Makoto smiles a little, petting Sato as she cries into her hands and smears paint all over herself. Laughing, Makoto brings her in for a hug and squeezes.

“It’s really okay! You’re getting makeup all over your face.”

Sato blubbers out another incoherent apology and messes up her makeup even more.

“Tachibana-kun? Oh, good, you’re awake.”

Everyone turns to face Nori, who is approaching with a phone in hand and gentle concern on his face.

“The paramedics will be here in a moment, but it looks like you’re okay. It’ll be a good idea for them to make sure you’re alright. Did you hit your head?”

“I... don’t know,” Makoto says, reaching up to touch his head. There’s no pain.

“I caught him,” Sousuke says. Nori turns his attention to Sousuke.

“I see. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

Sousuke grabs his shoulder and rolls it. Makoto’s eyes widen.

“Sousuke, your shoulder,” he gasps. Sousuke gives him a single shake of his head.

“It’s fine.”

The paramedics arrive and simply ask Makoto a few questions. They give him a granola bar and a bottle of water, and tell him that he’s tired and dehydrated. After making sure Makoto doesn’t have a concussion or any external injuries, the paramedics pack up and leave.

Sato has stopped crying, but she doesn’t say anything. Haru remains absolutely silent. Sousuke is on his phone, distracting himself.

“I’m sorry for being so dramatic,” Makoto laughs grimly. He puts his hand over his eyes. “This is so embarrassing.”

“I’m super sorry about all of this,” Sato laments. “This is my fault.”

Makoto is about to laugh when Sousuke speaks up.

“It’s not your fault. Nanase is the one who absolutely _had_ to talk to you,” Sousuke growls. The light of his phone makes his glare even more intense. Haru narrows his eyes.

“Why is Makoto tired and dehydrated?” he questions. “He’s living with you, isn’t he? _You’re_ supposed to be taking care of him.”   

“ _Haru_ ,” Makoto says.

“He can take care of himself,” Sousuke hisses. “We needed some space. It’s none of your business.”

“He _fainted_ ,” Haru presses.

“He passed out because he was scared, not because of _me_ ,” Sousuke bites. “But sure. Blame me some more for things I didn’t do.”

“He doesn’t take care of himself when he’s upset!” Haru barks without warning. “You should _know_ that!”

“I do know that!”

“Then _why?!_ ”

“Sousuke, Haru, _stop!_ ” Makoto interrupts. He gets to his feet and holds out his hands. “Please stop. This is ridiculous. I’m… upset, yes. And I wasn’t taking care of myself. But it’s my own fault.  Okay? Can we just leave it at that?”

“You just think I’m the worst thing that has ever happened to him, don’t you?” Sousuke sneers at Haru. “That he’d just be better off without me.”

“Sousuke!” Makoto exclaims. “ _Please_ just drop it!”

“Maybe,” Haru replies quietly. Sousuke tenses, rage filling his eyes.

“Haru!” Makoto cries. “ _Seriously--_ ”

“I’ve had enough of this. I’m going home,” Sousuke growls.

“Wait,” Makoto pleads as Sousuke turns on his heel and starts towards the parking lot. “Sousuke, please wait!”

Sousuke ignores him and disappears among the cars in the parking lot. When he’s gone, Makoto turns to Haru, his face scrunched up.

“ _Why_ couldn’t you just let it go?”

“He asked. I wasn’t going to lie,” Haru says simply. “You deserve better.”

“Like who? Who ‘deserves’ me, if Sousuke doesn’t?” Makoto asks. He tries to hold it back, but can’t, “ _You?_ ”

Haru furrows his brows.

“No.”

“Then _who_ is good enough? If it’s not you or Sousuke, then _who?_ ”

Haru pinches his lips together, very obviously taken aback by the sudden aggression. He grabs at the hem of his hoodie and squeezes it.

“I… don’t know.”

“You don’t know,” Makoto repeats. Haru gives a tiny, hesitant nod. “So as long as it isn’t Sousuke, it’d be fine.”

“Guys,” Sato says quietly, coming between them and holding up her hands. “Easy.”

“It’s hard,” Makoto blurts. He catches Haru’s eye and frowns at him. “It’s really, _really_ hard for the two people I love the most to hate each other so much.”

“Mako-kun--”

“You two said you wanted to meet, but all you could do was fight,” Makoto continues. His pained voice rises, “I don’t think you guys even _tried!_ ”

Haru shuffles his feet, a guilty look on his face.

“Hey,” Sato says. She holds up her hands again, physically nudging Makoto back. “Let’s just… take a deep breath, okay?”

Haru looks at Sato, his face contorted with emotion and his eyes shining. He clenches his fists at his side and looks down.

“Calm down,” Sato urges. Makoto obeys and takes a deep breath, forcing himself to relax his shoulders. Sato turns her attention to Haru. “Hey, you’re having a rough time with something else, right? And you need to talk to me?”

“...Yeah,” Haru mumbles. Sato puts her hands on her hips.

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s talk about it and get our minds off of this mess for a while,” she says, the cheerfulness returning to her voice. She comes forward and puts an arm around Haru’s shoulders, making him flinch.

“Oi,” he protests weakly, but he doesn’t pull away.

“You want to talk in private, right? We can talk in my car,” Sato offers. Haru shuts his mouth and nods once. “Are you okay with waiting here for a while, Mako-kun?”

“...Of course,” Makoto sighs. “Take all the time you need.”

He watches Sato escort Haru to her car, chattering the whole way. When they’re gone, Makoto flops down on the nearby bench and tips his head back.

_What a stressful evening._

He still has to face Sousuke about this, too. The thought makes his stomach churn. There’s no way he can handle another big fight, and he wonders if he should just spend the night at Haru’s.

No. He’ll just fight with Haru if he’s left alone with him.

Groaning, Makoto puts his face in his hands and wishes that things were simple again.It was so much easier when the only thing he had to worry about was whether or not Sousuke wanted to kiss him. With a resigned sigh, Makoto drops his hands to his lap and shuts his eyes. If only he could fall asleep and not wake up for a day.

Maybe even a year.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friends [Diana](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com) and [Nicole](https://syniio.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	41. Chapter 41

Haru ends up going home by train, insisting that he needs to be alone for a while. Sato happily agrees to drive Makoto home. During the ride, Makoto expects Sato to say something, but she’s unusually quiet. She turns on the radio to the lowest setting, letting pop music play softly to occupy the tense silence. Makoto stares out the car window, fiddling with the zipper of his coat. When the suspense gets to be too much, he speaks up.

“So... what did he say?”

“Well, he definitely has a lot to think about,” Sato laughs grimly. Makoto squirms.

“Like what?” he presses. “Is he okay?”

“He’s... okay, yeah. He just needs to sort out some feelings,” Sato explains. Makoto groans.

“You’re being really vague.”

“Haru made me promise not to tell you. He said he needs to figure it out on his own, and that it’s not your responsibility to figure it out for him. Or something like that.... oh, and he told me to tell you that he’s going to be okay,” Sato adds. She glances at Makoto. “Because he knew you’d be worried.”

“I wish you’d just tell me!” Makoto whines. “It’s harder _not_ knowing!”

“Ugh, jeez, Mako-kun, don’t beg me like that, I just… oh, _man_. Um… okay, well, it has something to do with you...”

“Oh my _god_ , Sato-san,” Makoto moans. He lowers his voice, “Does… does he _like_ me?”

“Mmm... no,” Sato says. “He confirmed he’s aromantic.”

Makoto’s brow creases.

“Wait, what? If that’s not the case, then what does it have to do with me?”

“Ugh… oh man,” Sato struggles to say. It’s almost as if it’s physically hurting her to keep a secret. “Okay, I’ll tell you, but only because I think it’d be good for you to know! And because I can, like, tell this is _really_ hurting you. And I feel bad for everybody. You guys are a mess.”

“Sato-san. Please,” Makoto begs. “Just tell me. I won’t tell him you told me.”

“Okay… have you ever heard the term queerplatonic?” Sato begins slowly.

“Q-Queer... what?”

“Queerplatonic. It’s kind of like a crush, except without the romantic feelings. A platonic crush?” Sato muses. “Um, Nori-chan said it means ‘really intense, non-romantic feelings towards someone’. That’s what it sounded like when Haru described it.”

“But _why_ would Haru want to keep that a secret from me? He just wants to be best friends? We’re _already_ best friends.”

“Queerplatonic feelings are more than just ‘wanting to be friends’. And from what it sounded like, I think he _thought_ you and him were in this type of relationship _before_ , but he feels like it was taken away when Sousuke-kun came along. Maybe he thinks his feelings will come between you and Sousuke-kun. And even though he doesn’t like it, I don’t think he wants to break you guys up,” Sato explains. She nibbles her lip. “I shouldn’t have told you this... I said way too much. Poor Haru.”

Makoto sighs. He leans his head on the window and hugs himself.

“I won’t say anything. I’m just… glad that I know. I’ll look into it more on my own.”

He runs his hand over his belly. It’s been cramping all night, and as they get closer and closer to his apartment, it cramps even worse.

“You okay, Mako-kun?”

“I have a stomachache,” Makoto whimpers. Sato laughs.

“Aww! Poor thing,” she coos. “Try to calm down. Haru’s feelings are complicated, but I really think they can be worked out. Just give him some time to think about it. I taught him some new things, and he’s gonna do some research.”

“Are you _sure_ he doesn’t need help?” Makoto asks. Sato shakes her head.

“Mako-kun, I think you baby him too much. He’s a big boy! All he needed was a little push in the right direction.”

“...Alright. I trust you,” Makoto mumbles. After that, they stay quiet until Sato pulls into the parking lot of his apartment. Sousuke is standing on the balcony outside their apartment, leaning on the railing. Makoto’s heart sinks. “...Oh, _no_.”

“Good luck, Mako-kun,” Sato gives Makoto a pat on the thigh and flashes him an apologetic smile. “I’m rooting for you.”

“Thanks,” Makoto groans. He opens the car door. “Goodnight.”

“Night!”

Makoto gets out of the car and Sato leaves. Refusing to look up at the balcony, he drags his feet all the way to the stairs and trudges up them as slow as he can manage. At the top, he hesitates and wrings his hands before coming forward. Sousuke straightens and silently opens his arm, pulling Makoto close and kissing his forehead. He’s shaking faintly, and he feels tense.

“...Did you have an attack?” Makoto asks.

“Just... a little one on my way back from campus. Don’t worry,” Sousuke murmurs, but Makoto has a feeling he’s not being completely honest. “Couldn’t stay still, so I came out here to wait for you to come home.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I was on edge all day,” Sousuke says. “More importantly, are you okay?”

“I’m just...tired,” Makoto sighs. He pulls back from Sousuke, his brow creased. “I asked you guys to keep an open mind, and all you two could do was fight.”

Sousuke looks away. He opens his mouth quickly like he’s going to blurt something out, but stops himself.

“...Yeah. I won’t argue about that one,” he admits, sounding exhausted. Makoto turns and leans his elbows on the balcony so he can put his head in his hands.

“I’m… I don’t feel like fighting about this any more tonight. You’re anxious, I’m tired,” Makoto exhales. He lifts his head and looks out at the night. “Is that okay with you?”

“...Yeah,” Sousuke replies hesitantly. Makoto straightens and turns to him, frowning. “But… I want you to know that it really was important to me. Meeting Nanase, I mean. It was important to you, so it was for me, too. It was _so_ important to me, I wasn’t about to just fake it to make everyone happy. If I’m going to try and get along with him, it’s going to be real.”

“...Okay,” Makoto says. He slumps against Sousuke and hides his head in his shoulder.

“So, did Fuyumi and Nanase talk?” Sousuke asks. Makoto nods.

“They talked, but Haru…” he trails off. He really shouldn’t tell Sousuke, so he swallows his words. “Um… Haru doesn’t want to tell me until he has some time to think about it.”

“Figures.”

“You’ve kept secrets from me, too,” Makoto points out. Sousuke shuts his mouth. “But Sato-san said that Haru doesn’t have a crush on me.”

“...Oh. I see,” Sousuke says. He touches his forehead to Makoto’s, smiling a little.

“Mm,” Makoto hums. A sudden breeze sends a chill up his body. “Can we go inside?”

“Yeah.”

They go inside and shed their coats and shoes. Makoto keeps glancing over at Sousuke, fidgeting as he tries to find the right words to say. Sousuke pads down the hallway and into the bedroom. Makoto follows in silence and stands in the doorway as Sousuke strips off his shirt and looks at his shoulder in the mirror. It isn’t red or anything, but it certainly looks stiff as he rolls it.

“Damn shoulder,” he mutters.

“Did you take your pills?” Makoto asks. Sousuke gives a curt nod and puts his arm back down. “...Did you really hurt your shoulder when you caught me?”

“Not really. It was bothering me all day. Pisses me off. I’ll just wear the brace for the rest of the week and try not to put a lot of stress on it,” he grumbles. “This sucks.”

Makoto smiles sympathetically and comes forward to wrap his arms around Sousuke’s waist and kiss his shoulder. At first, he wonders if this sort of intimacy is okay after a week of being so cold with each other, but Sousuke readily accepts the warmth and shuts his eyes. Rubbing his arms, Makoto continues to rain kisses down on his shoulder.

“I don’t know if I want to sleep or have sex.”

Makoto laughs against Sousuke’s skin, thrown off by the blunt statement. He rests his chin on Sousuke’s shoulder and looks at him in the mirror.

“Those are two very different things,” he teases. Sousuke grins.

“Wipe that shitty smile off your face. I’m serious. I could use some stress relief,” he says. Turning in Makoto’s arms, he nuzzles his temple. “Don’t feel like going all the way tonight, but can you lead?”

Makoto lifts his hands to Sousuke’s hips, rubbing small circles into his flesh with his thumbs.

“Of course,” he says. “But I’m really tired, too.”

“Well, if we fall asleep in the middle of it, I don’t care,” Sousuke yawns. “I just feel like it.”

“Okay.”

The sex is slow, painless, and warm. Sousuke’s voice is soft and pretty, and Makoto stays quiet so he can hear it. It’s obvious that Sousuke has missed this, too; he grips Makoto tight and can’t go more than a few moments without a kiss.

“You’re so beautiful,” Makoto whispers in his ear. Sousuke tightens around his fingers and moans. He whimpers something incoherent, perhaps a returning compliment or simply his name, but Makoto only kisses his ear and curls his fingers.

“I’m sorry,” Sousuke breathes somewhere in the throes of his pleasure, lips wet and clumsy against Makoto’s cheek. “...M’sorry.”

Whether he’s sorry because of the rough, unfeeling sex last week, or not giving Haru a chance, or the recent lack of warmth and love, or some mixture of all of them, Makoto doesn’t know. But he kisses away the tears that trickle down Sousuke’s cheeks anyway, soothing him.

When they finish, Sousuke still seems a little distant and weak, so Makoto brings him back with petting and kissing. They fall asleep entangled together, warm and safe underneath the covers.

\---

Makoto wakes up at noon to the sound of rain hitting the window. He opens his eyes slowly to look out at the dreary weather. It’s not even a thunderstorm, just nasty weather. Rolling over in bed, Makoto curls up. He really doesn’t feel like getting up. Instead, he closes his eyes and tries to go back to sleep.

“Are you napping? You’re going to be late for class if you don’t get ready.”

At the sound of Sousuke’s voice from the bedroom door, Makoto moans and pulls the sheets over his head.

“I’m skipping,” he mumbles. “We’re not doing anything today, so it’s fine.”

He hears footsteps coming closer before the blankets are pulled back from his head. Sousuke peers down at him, fully showered and dressed.

“Are you done with class already?” Makoto asks.

“My last class was cancelled.”

“Then I’m staying home. I don’t want to go outside,” he says, shutting his eyes and burrowing into his pillow. “It’s cold and I don’t want to get wet.”

“What a brat,” Sousuke sighs. Makoto feels the bed sink as Sousuke sits down. “Have you eaten yet?”

“I just woke up.”

“Wait, you slept until noon?” Sousuke asks incredulously. “It wasn’t even midnight when we went to bed last night.”

“I was really tired.”

Makoto feels Sousuke’s hand on his cheek and he opens his eyes, looking up at his boyfriend’s concerned face.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asks. “Your head’s a little hot.”

His hand moves up to Makoto’s forehead, then brushes his bangs back.

“Have you had anything to drink at all?” Sousuke presses. Makoto shakes his head. “Well, for fuck’s sake, Makoto. The paramedics _told_ you that you were dehydrated last night.”

“I forgot,” Makoto sighs. He closes his eyes and lets Sousuke pet his hair. “And I was okay last night, so...”

“Honestly,” Sousuke says. He clicks his tongue and gets up. “I’ll get you some water.”

“I can do it...”

“No. Stay put.”

With that, Sousuke leaves the room. Makoto snuggles up in the warmth of his blanket. His body is a little sore, and his throat stings from yesterday’s screaming. Mixed with the bad weather, it was only a matter of time before he got sick.

“I should’ve said something sooner,” Sousuke says when he returns with a water bottle. “I noticed you weren’t eating much. And you haven’t been to the gym at all this week, have you?”

“I didn’t feel like doing anything,” Makoto mumbles.

“Is it because we were fighting?” Sousuke asks. Makoto looks up at him, noticing the clear anxiety on his face. He hunches his shoulders a bit guiltily; he’s been noticing Sousuke’s anxious face all week, but couldn’t bring himself to say anything.

“No… well, maybe some of it. I was worried and upset, and… Haru’s right, I’m bad at taking care of myself when I’m sad,” he explains. Sousuke sets his jaw.

“Well, that’s bullshit. You need to take care of yourself even if you don’t feel like it,” he scolds. “You’re not a kid. Nobody should have to remind you.”

“I know. Sorry,” Makoto apologizes. Sousuke rolls his eyes.

“Don’t apologize to me. Drink some water.”

Sousuke helps Makoto sit up so he can drink from the water bottle he’s given. It feels gross on his tongue, and his throat wants to reject it, but he forces himself to drink half of it before putting it down. His back is already sore from sitting up, so he lies back down and sighs.

“What do you think it is, a cold? Flu?” Sousuke asks. “Do you feel like you’re going to puke or anything?”

“Not really,” Makoto says. “I think it’s just a cold.”

“I knew that jacket you were wearing last night wasn’t enough,” Sousuke grumbles. Makoto peeks up at him.

“Hm?”

“Your nose was red,” Sousuke says, tapping his nose. Makoto giggles and pulls the blanket up to cover his mouth. “Oi. Stop laughing at me.”

“No, I’m just happy,” Makoto hums. “Because you noticed.”

“Of course I did. I know you,” Sousuke murmurs. Makoto feels his hand in his hair again. “I just... didn’t say anything. Because I was pissed off, and... I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m sorry, too. For not taking care of myself.”

Sousuke is quiet before leaning down to kiss the blanket over Makoto’s mouth. He pulls it down and pecks his lips.

“You’ll get sick,” Makoto warns. Sousuke snorts.

“No way. Do you know how much Vitamin C I put in my diet? I’m a machine.”

Makoto smiles and lets Sousuke tuck him in.

“I can make you some rice porridge.”

“Nnn,” Makoto whines. Sousuke gives him an exasperated look.

“What’s that face for?”

“I want something sweet.”

“Idiot. Why are you thinking about sugar right now?” Sousuke asks. Makoto laughs, but it turns into a cough. “I think you just want attention.”

“That’s not it...” Makoto fibs.

“In any case, I’m not making you something sugary when you’re _sick_. Unless you want me to pour a bag of sugar in some rice porridge.”

Makoto makes a face.

“I didn’t think so. That’s what I’m making for you. Deal with it.”

“Fine,” Makoto sighs. He gets one more kiss before Sousuke leaves the room. Makoto closes his eyes and tries to sleep, but he’s wide awake and restless. He tosses and turns before finally sitting up.

His body feels heavy as he scoots to the edge of the bed and hauls himself to his feet. Pulling his blanket around his shoulders, he shuffles out of the bedroom and to the kitchen, where he finds Sousuke washing rice.

“Hey, what are you doing out of bed?” Sousuke huffs.

“Can I help?”

“Hell no. Go back to bed."

“I’m bored.”

“Holy shit. You’re such a pain when you’re sick,” Sousuke chides. “Go to the living room and watch T.V. or something. I’ll bring you the porridge when it’s done. And put some pants on.”

Makoto looks down and quickly realizes he’s naked. Flushing bright red, he hurriedly closes the blanket.

“ _Man_ ,” Sousuke sighs. “I’ll prepare a bath for you, too. You’ll feel better when you’re clean.”

“You’re so good to me,” Makoto coos, turning to leave the kitchen. Behind him, Sousuke grumbles.

“Someone has to be.”

Makoto goes to the bedroom to put on some basketball shorts and a tank top (he’s pretty sure they’re both Sousuke’s) and grabs his phone. He pads back to the living room, flops down onto the couch, lets out a cough, and curls up under his blanket. The familiar sound of Sousuke cooking in the kitchen is comforting. Feeling warm and toasty, Makoto plays Bejeweled on his phone to pass the time. Just as he’s about to get a high score, he’s interrupted by an incoming text from Haru.

_[are you ok?]_

Makoto blinks in confusion.

_[What do you mean?]_

_[is everything ok with you and yamazaki? after last night]_

_[Yes! But I’m sick_ _:(_ ]

_[and why do you think that is.]_

_[Sorry!!!]_

_[you need to be resting]_

_[Sousuke is making me porridge right now.]_

_[good. go sleep after. maybe a bath]_

_[Okay, Haru-chan.]_

Makoto smiles and clicks his phone off. His mind wanders to Haru’s feelings and his smile immediately fades.

Before he has time to think about it, the blanket is suddenly tugged off his head. Makoto squints against the light and looks up at Sousuke, who stands over him with a steaming bowl in his hand.

“Your cheeks are red,” Sousuke sighs. “I wonder if it’s a fever.”

“It doesn’t feel like a fever,” Makoto says. He slowly sits up and takes the bowl of rice porridge.

“Is it too thick?” Sousuke asks as Makoto stirs the porridge. He brings a little spoonful to his lips and blows on it.

“It looks good. Thank you,” Makoto says. He puts the spoon in his mouth and smiles around it. It’s really good. Not too salty, with a faint chicken flavor.

“Is it okay?”

“It’s delicious,” Makoto compliments. Sousuke offers him a little smile and rubs his thigh through the blanket.

“Awesome. I’m going to run a bath.”

“Okay.”

Makoto hums and watches some videos on his phone while he eats, feeling happier than he has been all week. If being sick means Sousuke will take care of him like this, then maybe he should get sick more often. Makoto laughs to himself at the thought. Sousuke would not tolerate that one bit. Haru would probably pitch a fit, too.

It’s really too bad they hate each other.

Makoto frowns, holding his spoon in his mouth as his brow creases. After last night, he’s sure they’ll never get along. There’s no way they’d agree to another meeting. Hell will have to freeze over for them to even be in the same _room_.

When he finishes his porridge and his belly is full, he puts his bowl on the coffee table and curls up on the couch again. Just as he’s about to fall asleep, Sousuke returns to the living room.

“Bath’s ready. Get up, I’m not going to carry you.”

Makoto groans and sits up. Sousuke offers him his left hand and helps him get to his feet.

“You can walk, right?”

“Yes, yes,” Makoto mumbles. He shuffles towards the bathroom, with Sousuke right behind him.

“Don’t stay in for too long,” Sousuke nags. “I don’t want you overheating and passing out.”

“I _won’t_ ,” Makoto whines.

“Good. Call me if you need me.”

When Sousuke is gone, Makoto strips down and takes a quick shower to wash his body and hair. After rinsing, he climbs into the bath. It’s blessedly warm, and smells delightful; Makoto’s pretty sure Sousuke put some bath salts in the water. Makoto sinks down into the tub, submerging himself up to his neck and shutting his eyes.

“Don’t fall asleep.”

Makoto yelps and jumps, nearly dunking his head under water as he slips. He sits up straight as Sousuke walks into the bathroom. He places a stool by the bath and sits down.

“What are you doing?” Makoto asks. Sousuke shrugs, leaning his elbows on the edge of the tub.

“Making sure you don’t drown.”

Makoto blushes and looks down at the water between his knees. Sousuke dips his finger in.

“Is it warm enough?”

Nodding, Makoto leans back and relaxes once more. They’re silent as Sousuke runs his fingertips along the surface of the water.

“I feel like this is my fault,” Sousuke mutters.

“It’s not,” Makoto says gently. “I promise.”

“...Mm,” Sousuke hums, still looking anxious. He reaches out to brush the wet bangs away from Makoto’s face. “You worried about me and Nanase more than you worried about your own _health_.”

He tangles his fingers in Makoto’s hair and tugs gently.

“And I couldn’t even...”

Sousuke lets his hand drop and he looks down at the bathwater. Makoto frowns down at him.

“I’m sorry.”

His uttered apology makes Makoto’s heart break.

“Hey...” Makoto soothes. “I wore a jacket instead of a coat last night. You’re not the reason I got sick, okay? ”

Sousuke lifts his head, a pained look in his eyes. Makoto smiles and touches his damp fingers to his cheek.

“I guess... we’ll just have to deal with you and Haru not liking each other,” Makoto sighs. As it comes out of his mouth, he immediately knows it won’t work, but he continues anyway. “If it can’t be helped, then I don’t see anything else we can do. I’ll just... have to divide up my time more between you two.”

Makoto looks away, troubled. It’ll be almost impossible to juggle the two of them while keeping them entirely separate. Maybe Sousuke and Haru can take turns coming back to Iwatobi with him on the holidays. Haru can stay with him for the first half, and Sousuke can stay with him for the second half...

“...Alright,” Sousuke agrees tentatively. He offers Makoto a small smile. Makoto returns it with a little kiss on the temple.

“We’ll figure it out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friends [Diana](https://coronaampora.tumblr.com) and [Nicole](https://syniio.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](https://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](https://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay!
> 
> **Expect delays in the next couple weeks. I'll let you know if the delay is over 3 days, but I've got so much stuff due and so many final exams to take that I may have to put FEFSKY on the backburner for a few days to get caught up on schoolwork. Thank you for understanding!

The dreary weather continues well into November, making the walks to the subway (or even to Sousuke’s car) absolutely miserable. Sometimes Makoto wakes up in the morning to frost on the window, only for it to be washed away by the freezing rain by midday.

It doesn’t help his mood.

“Let’s go work out,” Sousuke offers on a particularly rainy Saturday. Makoto, who is snuggled up in a blanket on the couch, looks up from his chemistry textbook.

“Mmm...” he hums. “I think I’ll pass. You can go on ahead.”

“Makoto. You haven’t been to the gym in weeks,” Sousuke says. He sits down on the couch, hands in the pockets of his hoodie. “What’s going on? Are you sick again?”

“No... I’m just tired, is all,” Makoto sighs. He fiddles with the page of his book, distracted by a little rip. “I’ll go next time.”

“Come on,” Sousuke urges. “You won’t feel tired if you work out.”

“I really have to study,” Makoto mumbles. “I promise I’ll go next time.”

“Fine,” Sousuke sighs. He gets to his feet and pulls his hood up over his head. “I’m going to the store after the gym, so I’ll be gone for a few hours.”

“The store? We’ve got leftover yakisoba, though.”

“Yeah, but my dad is coming over tonight.”

“Iwao-san is coming over?” Makoto asks, blinking. Sousuke lifts an eyebrow.

“I asked you if it was okay to have him over this weekend? You said tonight would work.”

“...Ah... yeah, I remember,” Makoto lies. Sousuke gives him a look, but shrugs.

“Do you want anything from the store? I’m going to make hot pot tonight.”

“Can you get more hot chocolate?”

“Sure. Later.”

“Bye.”

Once Sousuke is gone, Makoto looks back down at his textbook. He tries to read, but the pattering of the rain on the window is too distracting. Giving up, he closes his book and sets it aside. He spends a few minutes on the couch, just staring down at the blanket draped over his lap. Even though he woke up only a few hours ago, he feels like taking a nap… but he should really do some cleaning.

“Jeez,” Makoto yawns. He hauls himself to his feet and trudges to the bathroom, where he bends over the sink and splashes his face with warm water. When he lifts his head, his eyes zero in on a cluster of pimples at his temple. He groans, “Great.”

Makoto takes a minute to wash his face, but he still feels nasty. Upset, he goes to the bedroom and flops down headfirst onto the bed. He puts a pillow over his head and squeezes his eyes shut. Reaching down, Makoto runs his hand over his belly. His muscles have deflated considerably, and he can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt that he hasn’t been to the gym in so long. Makoto yanks the blankets over his body and curls up under them.

He really hates this weather.

\---

Later, Makoto awakens to the sound of pots and pans clattering in the kitchen. Sitting up, he yawns and stretches. He still feels groggy, and sort of wants to go back to sleep. Groaning, Makoto gets out of bed and drags his feet to the kitchen. He finds Sousuke there, whisking ingredients together in a mixing bowl. He’s freshly showered and dressed in sweatpants and a tank top. As usual, he looks cut and sculpted. Feeling a tad shameful for his own out-of-shape body, Makoto hugs himself and steps into the kitchen.

“What are you making?”

“Oh, you’re up,” Sousuke says, turning towards him. “I’m... baking.”

“Baking?” Makoto asks curiously. Sousuke shrugs.

“You seemed down earlier, so I picked up some stuff to make a cake,” he explains, his cheeks a tad pink. He frowns. “Now that I think about it, it was probably a bad idea to waste so much money on this, when your birthday is coming up.”

“Birthday,” Makoto echoes. Oh. That’s right, his birthday is next Thursday. “I... forgot.”

“Ha. Feeling old?” Sousuke says. He smirks and continues to whisk. “I can tell you right now, there’s nothing interesting about being twenty-one.”

He flicks his wrist as if to wave dismissively and accidentally sends cake batter onto the floor.

“Shit.”

“I got it,” Makoto laughs. He grabs a paper towel and stoops to clean it up. As he’s bent over, he feels Sousuke’s fingertips trace along his spine.

“...Man, you’ve really lost a lot of muscle,” Sousuke mutters. Makoto flinches and pinches his lips together. He stands as Sousuke finishes whisking and pours the batter into a waiting, prepped cake pan. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m having kind of an off month,” Makoto admits with a soft, nervous chuckle. Sousuke grunts.

“An off month? Usually people only have off days,” he snorts. His face becomes solemn. “Is it something I’m doing?”

“No, no,” Makoto says. “I think... it’s just the weather.”

“It has been pretty shitty,” Sousuke agrees. “I froze my ass off on my way to the gym. But still...”

“I’ll be fine,” Makoto assures him. “Do you need any help?”

“Can you peel the carrot? It’s in the bag by the fridge.”

“Mhm,” Makoto agrees. He grabs a peeler and the carrot and stands over the sink as he carefully (and clumsily) peels it. “When will Iwao-san be here?”

“Soon. He had some stuff to finish up at the office,” Sousuke explains, sliding the cake into the oven and closing the door. As he sets the timer, he furrows his brow. “Hmm...”

“What’s wrong?”

“...I don’t know. Dad’s company sales dipped a bit this year, so they’re doing a whole bunch of big Christmas and New Years promotions. I think he’s at his limit. Stupid old man doesn’t know when to relax,” Sousuke grumbles. Makoto giggles.

“Sounds like you’re really worried about him!”

“Shut up,” Sousuke huffs. He grabs a fish wrapped in paper from the fridge and slaps it down on the counter, making Makoto laugh again. “And quit laughing at me.”

Makoto smiles to himself as Sousuke filets the salmon. When he’s done peeling the carrot, he sets it aside and jerks his thumb towards the living room.

“I can set up the kotatsu, if you want.”

“Yeah, that’d be awesome. You know where it is?”

“Mhm.”

Makoto leaves the kitchen to dig the kotatsu out of the small supply closet by the washer and dryer. He lugs it to the living room, nudges the regular table out of the way, and sets it down. As he fluffs up the futon and makes it look nice, his thoughts wander to Iwao. He hasn’t seen him since Sousuke’s birthday. From what he remembers, Iwao had looked tired, but he didn’t think anything of it until now.

The doorbell rings and Makoto hears Sousuke swear from the kitchen.

“I got it!” Makoto calls. He quickly fixes his hair and hurries to the front door. He opens it to reveal Iwao, dressed in a black coat with a wet umbrella in one hand and a plastic bag in the other.

“Makoto,” he greets warmly. “Good evening.”

“Come on in, Iwao-san,” Makoto says, moving aside to let Iwao come in.

“Apologies for the intrusion,” Iwao says. He sets his umbrella against the wall and sheds his coat, which Makoto takes as he closes the door to block out the cold. Iwao shivers, “Nearly got frostbite on my way here.”

Makoto laughs and leads Iwao to the kitchen, where Sousuke is furiously chopping mushrooms.

“You said you wouldn’t be here for another hour,” Sousuke scolds. Iwao smiles and brings the plastic bag to Sousuke, setting it on the counter.

“I don’t recall saying it’d be an hour. I brought a small gift.”

Sousuke frowns and peeks into the bag, immediately scowling.

“Tangerines? You didn’t have to do that.”

“When you were young, you loved tangerines,” Iwao sighs. Sousuke pinches his lips together.

“I’m not a _kid_.”

“Yes, yes. You’re a very mature and respectable man now,” Iwao teases. Sousuke chops a mushroom with more force than necessary and sends pieces of it flying to the floor. “Do you happen to have sake?”

“In the cupboard,” Sousuke grumps, pointing with the tip of his knife.

“I’ll get it, Iwao-san. You can sit down,” Makoto offers, hurriedly going to the cupboard to fetch the sake and three glasses.

“Mm. Thank you. Such a polite young man,” Iwao hums. With that, he turns and leaves the kitchen. Sousuke chops the mushrooms with extreme prejudice, gritting his teeth as he decimates them with his knife. Makoto can’t help but laugh.

“...Coming to _my_ house, eating _my_ food...” Sousuke grumbles.

“Isn’t this technically Iwao-san’s apartment? And since Iwao-san is giving you allowance--”

“Who’s the one with the knife here, me or you?”

Makoto grins and hurries out of the kitchen to give Sousuke a break. The liveliness in the house makes his heart feel lighter, even though the wind continues to howl outside. He brings the sake into the living room, where Iwao is sitting comfortably at the kotatsu. He watches in silence as Makoto pours him a glass of sake and takes a seat.

“How have you been?” Iwao asks. Makoto gives him a crooked, awkward smile as he rubs his arms.

“Um… I’m good,” he replies. “How are you?”

“I’m well. Tired, but well.”

“Oh. I see…”

Makoto clears his throat and brushes a lock of hair behind his ear. He frowns down at the table and racks his brain for something to say.

“Is something troubling you?” Iwao asks. Makoto blinks and looks up, nervous.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“I couldn’t help but notice that you look worn out. Which is hypocritical of an old man such as myself to say, I know,” Iwao chuckles. He takes a sip of sake and folds his hands on the table, leaning towards Makoto. “How are things, really?”

“They’re good. I mean... I really don’t like this weather, so I think it’s affecting my mood a little bit,” Makoto says. Iwao grunts, tapping his finger on his cup.

“Nothing is happening?” he inquires, peering into Makoto’s eyes. Feeling a bit pinned, Makoto fidgets.

“Um... I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Well, if you ever feel the need to talk, please feel free to do so,” Iwao says. He finally breaks eye contact to study the design on the side of his cup. “I worry about you, you know.”

“...You worry about me?” Makoto echoes. Iwao glances at him.

“As I would any young person in this day and age. I am simply concerned for the well-being of the person my son treasures. And I suppose I just thought you appeared to be… a little down.”

Iwao smiles gently, the skin around his eyes crinkling.

“Call it a sixth sense, perhaps? I apologize if I’ve crossed a line.”

“No, no,” Makoto says as he shakes his head. “It’s okay, Iwao-san.”

“Ah. Then maybe I’m being overbearing. A ‘worry-wart, and a damn pain in the ass’, as my dear son puts it,” Iwao chuckles. Makoto laughs softly. They sit in silence as Iwao takes a drink. “Forgive me, Makoto, for prying.”

“It’s okay!” Makoto blurts. “I didn’t think you were prying. I’ve just been having a weird mo--”

“Dinner should be ready soon,” Sousuke interrupts as he suddenly comes into the living room. He squints at Iwao and Makoto. “...What are you two talking about?”

“Oh, nothing special,” Iwao says, smiling. Sousuke eyes them suspiciously as he sits across from his father.

“...Right. Anyway, I’ve been meaning to ask; how’s the company doing, Dad?”

Iwao’s smile fades and he groans softly, bumping his glasses up to rub his eyes.

“Hmm. Well, it looks like sales are going to spike before Christmas with this promotion. Our winter sports goods are flying off the shelf, with all of this cold weather. They’re thinking it’s going to snow a lot this season. Skis, snowboards, snowsuits. Those are our top sellers,” Iwao says. He flicks his wrist and shakes his head. “But enough about me. I didn’t come here to discuss my dull business practices. How about you two? Working hard?”

“Me and Makoto have the same chemistry class this semester, but we’re in different time blocks,” Sousuke explains. “So we’ve been able to do joint studies.”

“Mhm. It’s tiring,” Makoto admits with a soft laugh. He looks down at his folded hands, a small smile on his face. At the thought of his classes, all of the energy leaves him and he slumps slightly. “Very... very exhausting.”

“I can imagine,” Iwao murmurs, eyeing Makoto. He finishes his sake and Makoto moves to refill his glass, but Sousuke beats him to it. “You both look very worn out.”

“Dad,” Sousuke groans. “Stop worrying about us and worry about yourself.”

“You know that’s impossible,” Iwao says, his voice kind but firm. “I just… can’t help but notice something seems different. Perhaps it’s the atmosphere?”

Iwao looks around the room, as if searching for something. Makoto finds himself looking with him, and finds nothing.

“...Son, you _are_ taking your medication, correct?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Sousuke huffs.

“I see,” Iwao says. He rubs his chin.

“I need to finish dinner,” Sousuke sighs. He excuses himself to go to the kitchen, leaving Makoto and Iwao alone once more. Time could not go by any slower as Makoto goes right back to rubbing his knees and trying to think of something to say.

“There’s no need to be so nervous,” Iwao says kindly after a few tense moments. Makoto flinches and lifts his head.

“I-I-I’m not nervous,” Makoto lies. Iwao gives him a knowing smile. “...Okay, I’m a little nervous.”

Iwao laughs a rich and deep laugh, and it’s probably only the second time Makoto has ever heard it in his life. Feeling a little better, he lets his hunched shoulders relax and his fists unclench.

“As I said, there’s no need to feel nervous around me. I’m aware I can appear a little… frightening, at times,” Iwao says. He pauses, thinking. “I hope that you feel comfortable enough to approach me, should you ever need help from an adult. Well… perhaps a more suitable term would be a ‘more experienced peer’?”

“What do you mean?” Makoto asks. Iwao removes his glasses, neatly folds them, and sets them on the table.

“I can’t help but notice that you seem… visibly strained. Sousuke, as well. Not just individually, but with each other.”

“Really?”

“Mm. The two of you didn’t try to touch each other or sneak kisses when you think I’m not looking,” Iwao muses. Makoto blushes bright red as Iwao gives him a very Sousuke-esque smirk.

“I-I’m sorry, I…!”

“No need for apologies. Just… please understand that, as a parent, I am concerned for the health of my son and his loved ones. _And_ the health of his relationship. If I’m crossing any lines, please feel free to stop me.”

Makoto takes a small breath. Iwao’s face is very carefully blank; the practiced gaze of a businessman. His eyes, however, tell a different story. Makoto can see the concern in them, and the thought of letting that worry continue makes his chest tighten.

“I… okay. Me and Sousuke are kinda… having trouble right now,” he admits. Iwao’s face softens.

“Would you like to tell me about it?”

“Yeah,” Makoto sighs. He takes a breath, “Um... well... y-you see, my best friend Haru met Sousuke before I m-met him. And... things went really bad. Ever since then, Haru hasn’t trusted Sousuke at all. And Sousuke doesn’t trust him, either.”

“What happened between your friend and Sousuke?”

“Uh…” Makoto trails off. “Sousuke… threatened him, and pushed him around a little.”

Iwao tenses, his frown deepening. He doesn’t say anything, and instead gestures for Makoto to continue.

“They both hate each other a lot, but they both want to be close to me, and I can’t just _choose_. But I feel like they both want me to choose,” Makoto explains, his voice cracking as his throat tightens. “I don’t know what to do at _all_ , Iwao-san.”

Iwao doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, he puts his hand on Makoto’s shoulder and squeezes very lightly to comfort him. Once Makoto has calmed down a little, Iwao pulls back and folds his hands once more.

“My son wouldn’t want to force a choice on someone unless he genuinely feels like his relationship is at risk of being taken from him,” Iwao muses. “I recall a time when his friend Rin chose another group of boys to swim with, and his jealousy and anxiety flared. He knew he couldn’t change things, and regretted his choice not to go after Rin. To me, it sounds like he thinks he’s going to lose you, and he can’t do anything about it. So he takes out his frustration and sadness on your friend by hating him. And may I remind you, my son’s anxiety affects this greatly.”

“I know that, but…”

“Do you? You may not realize it, but it’s possible you’ve been sending him mixed messages.”

“I’ve told him several times that I would never leave him for Haru!” Makoto says, distressed. Iwao holds up a hand, gesturing for him to calm down.

“It isn’t just telling him. It’s showing him. A long time ago, I warned you about a relationship with a person with anxiety. This is what I meant. Sousuke needs the extra reassurance that he is loved. Small signals that seem insignificant to you may mean the world to him,” Iwao explains. He looks away and takes another drink of sake. “You have to be aware.”

“...Oh,” Makoto says, disheartened. He rubs his arm and looks down, wondering if he has sent mixed messages recently. He can’t even remember what he had for dinner last night.

“How long has this been going on? Your friend and Sousuke hating each other, I mean.”

“Over two years,” Makoto says. As it comes out of his mouth, he cringes with embarrassment. Iwao just raises his eyebrows.

“Two years? This situation has been going on for over _two years_ without any intervention whatsoever?” he asks. Makoto hesitantly nods his head and Iwao lets out a long sigh.

“B-But they agreed to meet up recently!”

“And how did that go?”

“...Badly.”

“What sort of ‘meetup’ was it?”

“Well… there was this silly event--”

“A silly event,” Iwao repeats. “So what you’re telling me right now is that this situation has been brewing for over two years, and _somehow_ it didn’t occur to you that some more serious measures had to be taken to make things right. Is that what you’re saying?”

“I-I-I--” Makoto stammers. Iwao just gives him a frustrated look. Looking down, Makoto folds his hands in his lap. “...Yeah.”

Iwao goes quiet after that, allowing some time for Makoto to think about things. A few minutes pass before Sousuke comes into the living room carrying the hotpot. He sets it down in the center of the table and looks down at it proudly.

“There,” he says. “How does that look?”

“Looks delicious. Well done,” Iwao compliments, smiling warmly. Makoto musters up the strength to give Sousuke a smile as well.

“It looks great,” he murmurs. Sousuke seems to sense something’s wrong, because he gives Makoto a look, but he dismisses it and leaves the living room again. When he comes back, he’s carrying plates and chopsticks for the three of them. He sits down and gestures for them to begin.

“Thanks for the meal,” Iwao and Makoto say together. The table goes silent, save for the clinking of their chopsticks and the persistent pattering of rain hitting the window.

“What were you guys talking about in here?” Sousuke asks suddenly, his gaze flicking between his father and Makoto.

“Oh, we were just discussing that you two appear to be very tense.”

“Yeah? And what do you mean by that?” Sousuke asks, a very small amount of edge in his voice as he takes a bite of salmon and looks his father in the eye. “Because I don’t think it’s any of your business.”

“Sousuke,” Makoto murmurs. The thought of even more fighting has his muscles clenching with worry, and he prays that Iwao doesn’t push it any further.

“That may be so, but as a parent, I wanted to address an issue that I cannot be silent about,” Iwao continues, his voice firm. Makoto groans and resists the urge to put his head in his hands. “Makoto has told me something troubling, and I want answers.”

Sousuke turns his head to Makoto, but Iwao snaps his fingers.

“Don’t look at him. What’s this about another young man that you _physically threatened?_ ”

“I’m going to go get some tangerines!” Makoto blurts, hurriedly getting to his feet and rushing out of the living room. In the kitchen, he clutches his pounding heart and gathers some tangerines in a bowl. He rinses them for some reason, even though the peels are going to come off anyway, just for something to do with his hands. He can hear their muffled voices from here--they’re both very angry. When it goes quiet for a little bit, Makoto musters up the courage to walk back to the living room. However, he stops as the voices pick up again, and he presses himself up against the wall in the hallway to listen.

“...And that is _not_ how I raised you,” Iwao snarls, his voice dangerously low. “Your anxiety is _not_ an excuse to act like an animal. _Ever_. I don’t care if this was last week or ten years ago, I did not _raise you_ to treat people that way. Do you understand me?”

“I didn’t even--”

“ _Do you understand me?_ ”

“...Yes, sir.”

“What that person deserves is an apology.”

“I--!”

“I don’t want to hear any excuses. You are a _grown man_ , and I am absolutely _appalled_ that I have to _tell_ you to apologize to someone. You don’t have to apologize to him for dating Makoto, but you _will_ be apologizing for that immature and rash behavior. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I will be checking back with you to make sure.”

“...Whatever.”

“Makoto, you don’t have to hide,” Iwao calls. Makoto jumps and slinks into the room. He sneaks a peek at Sousuke, whose face is flushed red with humiliation. He sits back down and timidly puts the tangerines on the table.

“I’m sorry for eavesdropping,” he whispers.

“I’m sorry you had to listen to that,” Sousuke snaps. Makoto flinches. That doesn’t sound like an apology at all. “Seriously, why the _hell_ did you think it was okay to just drag my dad into this?”

“Because I wanted help!” Makoto exclaims. Sousuke scoffs.

“Help? How has this helped in _any_ way, besides paint me to be the only one at fault for this entire thing?”

“Makoto and I have established that you’re certainly not the only one at fault,” Iwao interrupts. Sousuke fumes, but listens anyway. “I can’t speak for this ‘Haru’ person, but it sounds like all three of you fail to realize that you’re hurting each other. Each of you sees himself as the victim, but all I see is finger-pointing and a refusal to admit that you’re _all_ in the wrong. Makoto, you’ve drawn this out for _two years_. I’m _still_ shocked that you have failed to confront this issue seriously.”

Iwao turns his attention to Sousuke as Makoto wilts and looks down at his lap in shame.

“And you, son, _you_ continue to greet this glaring issue with nothing but hostility and resistance. In a way, both of your behaviors are influenced by each other, and it has created a vicious cycle. And now, a rift in your relationship.”

“Who gave you the damn right to come in here, acting like you know _anything_ about what’s going on?” Sousuke hisses.

“I told you, _I_ did,” Makoto whispers. He looks up at Sousuke, who seems to be desperately putting up walls in his head, only to have them crumble around him. “Things aren’t okay. I don’t want to pretend anymore, and Iwao-san said he might be able to help.”

Sousuke takes a shaking breath and crosses his arms.

“I am not trying to humiliate or disrespect anyone,” Iwao says, his voice softening. “Think of me as the third party in this situation. I don’t know everything, no. But with all the facts laid out in front of me, one thing is very obvious to me.”

Neither Makoto nor Sousuke look at him, instead training their eyes downwards as they listen. Makoto knows it’s coming, but he still cringes.

“Either fix the problem, or be prepared for the worst.”

Nobody moves or speaks. The silence is deafening, and Makoto can feel the blood rushing in his ears. Part of him wants to cry, another part wants to scream. A small part of him wants to run out in the freezing rain and keep on running until he’s far, far away from here.

“Right now, I don’t see a loving, healthy relationship. What I see in front of me are two disconnected, depressed, and anxious young men trying to force an unhealthy relationship to work,” Iwao continues. “Don’t misunderstand, I’m happy that you love each other. But I’d be happier if you two were separate and healthy rather than together and miserable.”

Makoto and Sousuke look up at Iwao, both pairs of eyes watery. Iwao smiles in a way that makes Makoto want to bury his face in his chest.

“I won’t sit here and patronize you. I won’t tell you everything will be okay. But what I _can_ tell you is this: just as everything happy has an end, the same goes for things that are sad.”

\---

Later that night, after Iwao leaves, the apartment is left cold and quiet. The dirty dishes remain untouched in the sink. The kotatsu hasn’t been wiped down. The cake Sousuke baked sits uncovered on the counter, cold and unfrosted.

Makoto sits on the left side of the couch. Sousuke sits on the right.

“I’m sorry if I ever made it seem like I was going to leave you for Haru,” Makoto mumbles. “I’m sorry I didn’t think of your anxiety. I’m sorry I didn’t take the meetup seriously. I’m sorry I--”

“Cut it out,” Sousuke hisses. “I don’t want to listen to you apologize a thousand times. It just sounds fake.”

“Sorry,” Makoto says out of reflex. Sousuke pinches the bridge of his nose and looks away, shaking his head.

“Dad said we’re all at fault. So I’m sorry, too.”

“I don’t want an apology, I just don’t want to have to choose between you and Haru,” Makoto says, a tinge of desperation in his voice. Sousuke faces him, brows furrowed.

“I told you, I’m not _asking_ you to choose. Like I said--”

“Even if you don’t say it, that’s what it feels like. Even at the event, you only held my hand to make Haru mad!” Makoto exclaims. Sousuke’s lips form a tight line. “I’m really tired of being in the middle of this.”

“ _You’re_ in the middle? You and Nanase have been ganging up on me since day one!”

“How have we been _ganging up_ on you?”

“Oh, for the love of god, wake _up!_ Will you just _stop_ acting like he’s a perfect angel who needs to be protected?” Sousuke sneers. Makoto’s eyes flash with anger and he jumps to his feet. Sousuke jumps up, too, and they get in each other’s faces. A whimpering voice in the back of Makoto’s head begs him to sit down and be passive, but his anger powers through it and he erupts.

“Haru has _never_ been perfect, but he _never_ deserved to be treated the way you treated him!” he yells, crowding into Sousuke’s space.

“And I already _said_ I was going to apologize to him for that!” Sousuke barks, crowding right back into Makoto’s space and making heated gestures with his hands. “But I’m not going to fucking _apologize_ for dating you!”

“I didn’t _say_ you had to be sorry for that!”

“ _YOU SURE ACT LIKE IT!_ ” Sousuke roars. “You act like I have to be sorry for _everything!_ ”

“You’re _WRONG!_ ” Makoto bellows. The volume of his own voice frightens him. Both he and Sousuke back away a little, panting. Sousuke is the first to recover, glaring daggers at Makoto with his fists clenched at his sides.

“Any time you talk about him, it’s about a jab he made at our relationship. And I bet you haven’t asked Nanase even _once_ to apologize for making me feel like a piece of shit because I’m dating you,” Sousuke grumbles. Makoto sets his jaw as Sousuke continues. “And you know, he threatened me, too. Over the phone. But I’m sure you forgot about that, too. Didn’t you?”

“You _shoved_ him. You’re _bigger_ than him!” Makoto says, his voice rising again. “ _He’s scared of you!”_

“And what, he hates me because he thinks I’m _beating_ you or something?” Sousuke mocks. Makoto falls silent and realization crosses Sousuke’s face. In less than a second, confusion, hurt, and anger crosses his eyes. “He thinks I’m _beating_ you?!”

“He hasn’t said anything like that,” Makoto assures him, but Sousuke steps back and lifts his hands as if he has been burned.

“I would never--” Sousuke begins. His voice breaks. “I would never, in my _life_ , ever--”

“I know that,” Makoto says quickly. He’s never seen Sousuke look so shocked and hurt in his life, and it scares him. He repeats himself, “I know you would never do that.”

Sousuke sinks back down onto the couch and puts his forehead in his hand. He doesn’t breathe until he lets it out explosively, like a sob. His chest convulses, struggling to take in air, and his body starts to go into lockdown.

“I’m going to get a blanket,” Makoto says. As he turns to leave, Sousuke lets out a choked sound.

“Don’t,” he wheezes. “This... is n-nothing.”

“What are you saying?” Makoto says incredulously. “You’re having an attack. You need--”

“It’s… not an excuse,” Sousuke croaks. Makoto stares at him in awe as Sousuke tries to speak evenly and fails miserably. Sitting down beside him, Makoto starts to rub his thigh and takes his hand to put it against his chest. Sousuke curses, tipping his head back and squeezing his eyes shut like he’s trying to get his body under control. All he gets is a muscle spasm that makes his foot kick out and smack into the table leg. He hisses in pain and shifts, the vein in his neck bulging and his hand tightening on Makoto’s.

When it ends fifteen minutes later, Sousuke slumps against the armrest of the couch and covers his eyes with his hand.

“God. I’m such a loser,” Sousuke hisses. Makoto frowns.

“You’re not a loser.”

“Yeah, I _am!_ ” Sousuke snaps, smacking his thigh and turning angrily to Makoto. He gestures to himself. “I can’t even handle a stupid fight without this happening! I can’t go two _minutes_ without thinking I’m going to have an attack, and it makes me even more anxious, and it’s like I’m just waiting for another one every _second_ of my stupid _fucking_ life, it’s _pathetic!_ ”

His voice ends in a scream and Sousuke recoils visibly from it.

“Sousuke,” Makoto whispers. Sousuke looks sharply away from him. “I didn’t…I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t _want_ you to know. You’d think I was making up excuses or something. Or that I use the attacks to run away,” Sousuke mutters. Makoto lets out an amazed laugh, out of reflex rather than actually finding it funny.

“I never thought you used your anxiety attacks to get away! I know you can’t control them,” Makoto says. He blinks. “...Have you been having them without telling me?”

Sousuke stiffens and refuses to look at Makoto, and that’s all he needs.

“I hate it so much,” Sousuke admits very quietly. “And I hate myself.”

He doesn’t look up from his lap as Makoto stares at him.

“That’s…”

“Overly dramatic?” Sousuke scoffs. “Yeah, I know.”

“No. I was going to say that’s _horrible_ ,” Makoto says. “You actually _hate_ yourself?”

“It’s stupid.”

“No, it’s _not_ ,” Makoto insists. “I d-didn’t--”

“Like I said, I didn’t want to tell you. I shouldn’t have said anything even now.”

Makoto grabs Sousuke’s thigh hard, squeezing it as fear fills him. Sousuke groans, looking up at the ceiling with a regretful look in his eyes.

“Look, I’m not suicidal or anything. There’s just a bunch of stuff about myself and my past that I wish I could change. I fucked up my shoulder, and I can never change that. I fucked up things with Nanase because I was a stupid, pissed off little kid. And now I’m fucking things up with you. I want to be a different person entirely,” Sousuke sighs.

“You should’ve told me sooner,” Makoto whispers. Sousuke flashes him a humorless smirk.

“Yeah, right. Like I said, it’s not a big deal.”

“It’s a _huge_ deal,” Makoto counters. Sousuke shuts his mouth and shakes his head. Makoto presses, “Please, Sousuke. I want to know this stuff.”

Sousuke remains silent. The only sound is the wind rattling the window.

“Remember when I told you I had a little anxiety attack on the way back from campus, after the Halloween event?” Sousuke finally asks. “That was a lie.”

“What do you mean?”

“I had a huge one. I had to pull my car over. I had to sit on the side of the road while I fell apart,” Sousuke explains. He takes a small, shaking breath. “This has been fucking me up so bad. All of this. And I’ve been hiding it from you. I’m sorry.”

“Oh my _god_ , Sousuke,” Makoto whispers. He drops his head into his hands as his heart seizes. He caused this. It’s his own fault Sousuke is like this. Because at some point, he must’ve done something to make Sousuke feel like he can’t talk about his anxiety at all.

“Do you think we’d be better off if we broke up?” Sousuke asks.

Makoto swallows hard and wrings his hands.

“Yes.”

They sit in silence again, and it is only broken when Sousuke makes a soft sound. Makoto looks over to see tears pouring down his face. Sousuke is chewing the inside of his cheek, staring straight ahead and bouncing his knee. His gaze flicks up to the ceiling and he blinks hard and fast as he scrubs his cheeks with the back of his hand.

“Shit,” he curses. His voice breaks and he chokes, doubling over and putting his head in his hands. Makoto listens to him weep, unsure if he should touch him. However, when Sousuke sobs, Makoto makes up his mind and moves closer to slide an arm around him. His voice quivering, Sousuke whispers, “God _damn_ it.”

Makoto leans his cheek up against Sousuke’s shoulder. He wants to cry as well, but he just feels numb.

“...I want to fix things,” Sousuke croaks. He sniffs and wipes his eyes. “I don’t want to give up yet. What about you?”

Makoto sits up so he can look at Sousuke’s face. Sousuke looks back at him with a deep frown and furrowed brows, grim determination in his eyes.

“I... don’t know,” Makoto admits, deflating. Rubbing his arm, he looks away. “Iwao-san said--”

“My dad can piss off,” Sousuke huffs. Makoto stares at him, alarmed. “Well... okay, I didn’t mean that. I meant, that old man hasn’t been in a relationship in years, so it’s easy for him to say to just give up. He forgot how good it feels to love someone. And to be loved by someone.”

Sousuke looks down at the last part, suddenly embarrassed. Makoto can’t help it; he smiles weakly.

“The point is, I love you, and I want to make things work again.”

Makoto sighs and averts his eyes. In all honesty, giving up isn’t something he wants to do either, but the heaviness in his heart is becoming too much to bear. He wants this empty feeling as far away from him as possible.

“...I get it that Nanase means more to you than just a friend,” Sousuke mutters. Makoto’s heart seizes and he nervously rubs his sweaty palms on his jeans. “And I know you value that relationship more than--”

“It’s not about value. Haru is one person I couldn’t live without. Um... well, I don’t mean it just physically. Our _friendship_ is something I couldn’t live without,” Makoto corrects himself. He gestures to himself and Sousuke. “With you... we have a completely different type of relationship.”

“You could live without me,” Sousuke concludes. Makoto hesitates, but gives a short nod.

“And I think that’s okay,” he says hurriedly. “I mean... I don’t... I don’t want it to sound that harsh. What I meant is--”

“I get it,” Sousuke interrupts. At first, Makoto thinks he’s upset, but Sousuke just looks thoughtful. “If we stopped dating, I don’t think I’d _die_ or anything.”

He gives Makoto a little teasing smirk. Makoto smiles back and reaches out to put his hand on his thigh. Sousuke takes his hand.

“Haru is a big part of me,” Makoto says. He takes a breath, mustering up all of his courage and squeezing Sousuke’s thigh. “And... and if you can’t handle that, w-we have to break up.”

Sousuke nods and stays silent. Makoto faintly hears the sound of his phone going off in the other room.

“You gonna get that?” Sousuke asks. Makoto shakes his head. “Alright. Well... I get it. I’m just... if it takes a while...”

He reaches up with his free hand and taps his temple. Makoto nods.

“It doesn’t have to be--” he starts. His phone goes off again and he shoots a look towards the bedroom. “Um... like I was saying, it doesn’t have to be right this second. I know your anxiety gets in the way of a lot of things. But... it makes me so happy to hear that you’re willing to give it another try. It really, really means so much.”

“I want this to work,” Sousuke whispers. Makoto reaches out and takes Sousuke into his arms. They embrace as Makoto’s phone goes off for a third time. They ignore it and instead focus on holding each other. Makoto rubs Sousuke’s back, feeling him shivering.

“Are you going to have another attack?” Makoto asks. Sousuke lets out a humorless laugh and pulls back to smile crookedly.

“I’m pretty sure my muscles are too tired to give a shit anymore.”

Makoto frowns at Sousuke’s grim humor.

“Sousuke...”

“I’m fine,” Sousuke assures him. Makoto shakes his head.

“N-No, you’re not. I’m really worried that--”

The phone goes off again and Sousuke gives an extravagant roll of his eyes.

“If it’s Fuyumi, I’ll kill her,” he says. “Someone better be dead.”

“Sousuke!” Makoto gasps as he stands. “Don’t say that!”

“Ha. Sorry, sorry. I’m kidding.”

Sousuke remains on the couch as Makoto hurries to the bedroom to get his phone. Ironically, it’s Haru, which immediately has Makoto on high alert. He knows it’s an emergency before he even picks up.

“Haru, what’s wrong? What’s going on?” Makoto asks. From the other line, he can hear the wind blowing and clipping the speakers. “Haru? Haru, can you hear me?”

_“Ma--...to, mai—nce--...partment--...cuation--”_

“Haru? I can’t hear you,” Makoto presses. His heart starts pounding in his chest as he turns to the door. “Sousuke, come here!”

“What’s wrong?” Sousuke asks, hurrying into the room. Makoto shakes his head and lowers the phone to put the call on speaker.

“It’s Haru. The signal keeps breaking up,” he says, his voice shaking. “Haru? Can you hear us?”

“Nanase?” Sousuke asks, hesitant. When there’s no answer save for the clipped wind, he grimaces. “Is he actually outside? It’s fucking _storming_.”

The call suddenly goes quiet as the signal dies. Makoto hurriedly redials, breathing hard. The call fails.

“Sousuke--”

“I’ll get my car keys.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friends [Diana](http://coronaampora.tumblr.com) and [Nicole](http://syniio.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](http://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](http://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](http://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](http://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a reminder, updates will be rather sporadic, especially through this week due to final exams and the beginning of Christmas break. Updates shouldn't be delayed more than 2-3 days, and I will let you know if there are any expected delays!

Sousuke leans forward in his seat, trying to see through the freezing rain that pelts the road in front of him. His windshield wipers are on at full blast, and they can barely keep up. Makoto tries to call Haru again and again, becoming increasingly panicked as time goes on.

“Is this it right here?” Sousuke asks, pointing. Makoto looks up to see flashing orange lights and a crowd of people standing in front of Haru’s apartment. Multiple cars are arriving and leaving. Terrified, Makoto starts to unbuckle his seatbelt and grabs the door handle. Sousuke snaps at him, “Let me stop first, damn it!”

Before Sousuke has a chance to put his car in park, Makoto throws the door open. It almost immediately slams back in his face as the wind catches it, but he shoves it and forces his way out of the car. Hair whipping around his face, he puts his hand over his eyes to shield them from the rain as he makes his way to the murmuring crowd of people.

“Haru?” he calls. Before he has a chance to call again, Haru suddenly steps out from the huddled-up group of people, bundled up in his coat and sopping wet. The petulant look on his face would make Makoto laugh under normal circumstances. Makoto grabs his shoulders and shakes him while Haru remains straight-faced. “Haru! Haru, what happened? What’s going on?”

“The pipes burst,” Haru yells over the wind. “The whole apartment is flooded.”

“Even the second floor?” Makoto calls back. Haru nods.

“There’s black mold in the walls,” he says. “Everyone had to evacuate.”

“ _Black mold?_ ”

“They went in with gas masks,” Haru says. “Someone said we’re lucky no one died.”

Makoto squeezes Haru’s shoulders; he’s shivering faintly, and Makoto doesn’t know if it’s because he’s scared or because he’s cold.

“We have to get out of the storm,” Makoto says. “We’re going to my apartment.”

Haru tenses and starts to shake his head and step back, but Makoto is quick to grab his wrist.

“I’ll wait for the landlord to tell us where to go,” Haru tries, but Makoto tugs him back towards Sousuke’s car.

“No way, Haru.”

“Let go!” Haru exclaims. “I’m not--”

“ _Just get in the car!_ ” Makoto barks, his fear taking over for a split second. Haru promptly shuts his mouth while Makoto throws open the door to the back seat. He lets Haru get in first, then sits down next to him and lets the wind slam the door shut. It’s finally quiet as Sousuke peers at them through the rearview mirror.

“What the fuck?” he asks. Haru stiffens beside Makoto, staring evenly back at the reflection of Sousuke’s eyes.

“Take us home, Sousuke,” Makoto pleads. “Just take us home. Please.”

Sousuke takes a breath, stops, and shakes his head before shifting into drive.

\---

“Haru. What _happened?_ ”

They’re in the living room, where Haru is warming up at the kotatsu. He’s bundled up tightly in a sweater, scarf, blanket, and flannel pajama pants while he sips hot cocoa. Sousuke stands away from the table, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and his eyes averted. He hasn’t said a word since they got home.

“I don’t know,” Haru says. “I was taking a bath. I heard a noise. And about an hour later, someone was pounding on my door. Maintenance came and said the pipes burst because...”

Haru trails off and makes a face, making Makoto suspicious.

“...Haru. Because...?”

“Too much water in the pipes when they froze,” Haru mutters under his breath. Makoto stares at him.

“...Um, how many baths have you been taking?” he asks. Haru doesn’t say anything. “ _Haru!_ ”

“It wasn’t me!” Haru says defensively. He looks anywhere except at Makoto.

“Ugh... well, in any case, how long is it going to take to fix?”

“I don’t know. The landlord is in trouble,” Haru adds. He pokes at a mini marshmallow stuck on the rim of his mug. “He was skipping on maintenance checks. He might get sued for putting tenants in danger.”

Makoto almost wants to laugh at Haru’s deadpan tone, but the thought of him actually getting sick because of black mold poisoning makes his stomach knot with worry.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t feel sick?” Makoto asks. Haru huffs at him.

“I’m fine.”

As Haru speaks, Sousuke silently leaves the room. Makoto watches him go, frowning. Haru sighs.

“Go talk to him. I’m fine,” he repeats. Makoto bites his lip, nods, and gets to his feet to follow Sousuke into their bedroom.

“I’m not angry,” Sousuke says the moment the door is closed. He takes a seat on the edge of the bed and rubs his hands together. “I just don’t...”

“It’s okay,” Makoto assures him. He takes a seat beside Sousuke on the bed and folds his hands in his lap. “But... I don’t know how long it’s going to take before Haru’s apartment can be lived in again. And... and we can’t just throw him out on the streets.”

“So you’re saying he has to stay with us,” Sousuke states. When Makoto doesn’t answer, he groans.

“It’s not like Haru will be in the bedroom with us. A-And... he likes doing chores, so he’ll definitely help around the apartment! Please, Sousuke. It’s an emergency.”

Makoto turns to Sousuke and puts on his best puppy dog eyes, gently touching his fingers to his thigh. Sousuke stiffens and tries to look away.

“Look, I know what I said, but I’m not ready for Nanase to just... be in my space,” Sousuke mutters. “Things are still too weird.”

“But he has nowhere to go,” Makoto presses. Sousuke’s lips form a tight line as Makoto rubs his thigh up and down. “Please.”

“Shit,” Sousuke curses. “I just... ugh. There’s no other choice, I guess. He can stay.”

“Thank you,” Makoto murmurs. He tilts his head up to give Sousuke an appreciative kiss on the side of his mouth. Sousuke sighs through his nose and moves his head away from Makoto’s lips.

“But I won’t forgive him if he gets in the way,” Sousuke warns, his face becoming guarded. “Between us, I mean. I want to fix things, and if Nanase doesn’t respect that...”

“I’ll talk to Haru about it,” Makoto says gently. Sousuke blinks at him as his face softens.

“Really?” he asks. Makoto smiles and nods.

“I will,” he promises. “I’ll make sure he understands.”

“Thanks,” Sousuke says. Saddened by how relieved he looks, Makoto frowns. Just how much stress had he been putting on his boyfriend?

Wordlessly, he shifts closer to Sousuke and slips his arms around his neck, pulling him close to kiss him. It’s the best way he can apologize right now; ‘sorry’ would probably just earn him an irritated look.

When Makoto pulls away, Sousuke follows him for a moment before leaning back and opening his eyes. He pets Makoto’s side, his hand warm and gentle. It feels like forgiveness.

“I’m going to go talk to Haru,” Makoto says, getting to his feet.

“I guess I’ll just have to take care of the kitchen by myself,” Sousuke sighs, but he’s smirking. “Do what you have to do.”

Makoto returns his smile and leaves the bedroom to find Haru. He’s still in the living room, but now he’s sitting in front of the bookshelf with his knees pulled up against his chest as he looks through it.

“Yamazaki has no books. Just magazines,” Haru states. Laughing, Makoto joins Haru at the bookshelf and kneels down to look at the magazines with him.

“A lot of these are for his dad’s company,” Makoto explains. He pulls a magazine off the shelf and shows Haru; it’s a catalogue for professional summer sportswear. “He says his dad signed him up for a lifetime subscription just to annoy him, but I’ve never seen him throw one away unless it’s really, really old.”

Haru remains silent as Makoto opens up the magazine and flips through it.

“He cares about Iwao-san more than he wants to admit,” Makoto explains, warmth in his voice.

“Iwao-san,” Haru echoes. Makoto nods.

“That’s Sousuke’s dad.”

“And his mom?”

“...Mm,” Makoto hums. He closes the magazine. “She’s not really in the picture anymore.”

Haru looks back at the magazine in Makoto’s hand and reaches out to take it. He flips to the jammers and stares at them.

“You’ve lost weight,” he says after a while, his voice quiet. “And you have pimples.”

“Haru, don’t point that out,” Makoto giggles nervously, reaching up to brush his bangs over the acne on his temple. “It’s embarrassing.”

“You’ve never had pimples,” Haru continues. His fists clench on the magazine, crinkling the pages slightly. “What’s going on?”

Makoto lets out a long sigh and folds his hands in his lap.

“Listen... me and Sousuke are having kind of a hard time right now,” he admits. Haru tenses.

“Are you saying he’s doing something to you?” he asks, his voice almost dipping into a snarl.

“No!” Makoto says quickly. “No, not at all! He’s never done anything to me.”

He looks at Haru evenly, not letting himself avert his eyes.

“He has never, ever hit me or purposely hurt me in any way,” Makoto says. “So please don’t _ever_ think that about him.”

“...I never said he was doing anything like that,” Haru mutters, but Makoto can tell that his words did the trick. Haru visibly relaxes, his shoulders slumping and his furrowed brow unwinding. After a moment, he asks, “Then what’s going on?”

“We’ve been... fighting a lot,” Makoto says. He frowns and rubs his arm. “Actually, it’s the same thing we were fighting about when I came to your house last month.”

“About me.”

“Yes,” Makoto confirms. Haru frowns and looks away.

“Oh.”

“Lately, I’ve been sad,” Makoto explains. “And it’s not just because of the fighting. I mean, we’ve fought before. This is the biggest fight we’ve had, but... it’s more than that. I’ve lost weight but it feels like my body is heavier. And I can’t focus, or remember things...”

He trails off, his throat suddenly tightening as he rubs his arm. Taking a moment to compose himself, he swallows hard.

“A-And it’s hard to wake up,” Makoto say. “I always feel like crying, but I can’t.”

“Makoto,” Haru whispers. “...When did this start?”

“October, maybe? At the beginning. Maybe after Sousuke’s birthday,” Makoto says, wracking his brain to remember. He shakes his head and scrubs at his dry eyes, wishing he would just cry already. “The fight with Sousuke made it worse, of course. And then, after Halloween, it’s like... my body doesn’t want to do anything. This has never happened before.”

Makoto frowns up at the window pane, watching sheets of rain run down the glass.

“If I never see a cloud again in my whole life, I’d be happy,” he admits. “I kind of feel like... when you can’t swim during the winter, so you sit in a bath for hours, just frustrated and sad because you miss the water? That’s what it feels like.”

“You miss the sun?” Haru suggests. Makoto giggles unexpectedly, with weak little bursts of sound that almost feel dusty as they come out of his chest.

“Maybe I miss the sun like you miss the ocean.”

“You can’t swim in the sun,” Haru sniffs, but there’s a tiny smile on his lips. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I think it’s too hot for that,” Makoto agrees. “But I’d love to go to the beach and walk outside, and even get a tan. I don’t think I would even mind tan lines.”

His smile fades as he looks up longingly at the window.

“But winter has only just _started_ ,” he whines. “It’s going to be a long time before I can do anything like that.”

As he speaks, he hears a creak and the sound of retreating footsteps. Looking over his shoulder, Makoto peers at the entryway to the living room.

“Was Sousuke standing there?” he asks.

“Yes,” Haru says. Makoto blushes.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have said all that weird stuff,” he mumbles. Haru shrugs.

“Yamazaki should know how you feel.”

“Well...”

“And I shouldn’t be here,” Haru adds. He looks down at his lap, his lips pulled together into a tight line.

“What do you mean? You can’t go back to your apartment,” Makoto says incredulously. “Where would you go?”

“...Somewhere else.”

“Haru, I talked to Sousuke and he said it’d be okay if you stayed,” Makoto insists. Haru tenses even more. “Please. I can’t... I don’t want you to be out in this weather.”

“And _I’m_ saying I don’t want to be here,” Haru says, his voice harsh. He goes quiet after that, rubbing his wrist and looking down.

“I won’t let you go out in that storm,” Makoto says softly, but his tone is firm. Hesitantly, he reaches out to touch Haru’s shoulder. However, he’s reminded of Haru’s feelings and his hand falters before dropping back to his lap. “At least stay the night. At least until the storm is over. Please, Haru?”

Haru releases a huge sigh, shutting his eyes. When he opens them again, he looks resigned.

“Fine.”

“It’ll be okay,” Makoto assures him. “Just...”

Makoto bites his lip. He doesn’t know if he should say anything. Half of him wants to go right back to leaving Haru blameless, and to just drop the subject altogether. But the thought of Sousuke’s relieved face and how much it means for him for Haru to take some responsibility gives Makoto the incentive to speak.

“Haru... I really have to ask you to... well, you see, me and Sousuke are having a hard time right now, like I said. And... and it’s really important that you don’t... interfere,” Makoto says nervously. The word sounds too harsh on his tongue, but he doesn’t take it back. Swallowing hard, he looks down at his lap. “We’re... really close to breaking up. We might _still_ break up.”

He croaks out the last part.

“And... I’ll be upset if you don’t let me and Sousuke try to work this out,” he whispers. Finally, he musters up enough courage to look Haru in the eye. “I know it’s selfish, but... can you please do that for me, Haru?”

Haru’s face remains carefully blank, but Makoto can see a flicker of hurt in his eyes. He looks away before Makoto can study it any further, returning his placid stare to the bookcase.

“Okay,” is all he says. Makoto doesn’t feel very relieved. Swallowing, he rubs his sweating palms on his thighs.

“If we start fighting, please don’t jump in,” he requests after a moment.

“Even if the fight is about me.”

It’s not a question.

“Yes,” Makoto confirms. “You... you don’t have to defend me. It makes Sousuke feel like he’s being ganged up on. It’s unfair.”

“I get it,” Haru sighs. “I won’t.”

“Thank you, Haru,” Makoto says. “Really, thank you.”

Without thinking, he moves closer to Haru, bringing him into his arms and holding tight. Haru fidgets and squirms, not enjoying the sudden embrace.

“...Oi,” he protests. “Stop being so clingy. You’re heavy.”

Despite his futile wriggling, Makoto holds him until Haru eventually relaxes. He lowers his head to Makoto’s shoulder, his warm palms settling on the curve of his waist. His thumbs press lightly into Makoto’s skin.

“...Thin,” Haru murmurs.

“I know. That’s what Sousuke said,” Makoto hums. He rubs Haru’s back. Even through the sweater, he can feel the solidity and strength of Haru’s back muscles. He’s not quite as bulky as he was for the Olympics, but he is definitely bigger than he was in high school. For the first time, Makoto feels small, like he’s the one being held in Haru’s arms, and not the other way around. He’s still bigger than Haru, of course, but... he feels frail. Like glass. Something about it makes him sad, but another part feels happy to be in such a warm, protective pair of arms.

“Would Yamazaki let me use the kitchen?” Haru suddenly asks. Makoto blinks and pulls back.

“Why? You want to cook?” he asks. Haru looks away.

“I didn’t say that.”

“I can ask him,” Makoto says. “I think he’d be okay with it, as long as you keep it clean. He’s kinda... weird about the kitchen. I think it’s his territory.”

“I see.”

“...Do either of you want chocolate cake?”

Makoto jumps and Haru looks over at Sousuke, who has just appeared from the hallway with the freshly frosted cake in hand. He looks awkward, his lips quirked into a weird half-frown.

“It’s not warm, but...” he trails off.

“I’d like some,” Makoto says. Realizing he’s still tangled in Haru’s arms, he pulls away. Haru, looking a tad irritated, flashes Sousuke a petulant look.

“No, thanks.”

Sousuke side-eyes Haru—Makoto’s sure he wasn’t really offering Haru cake for any other reason other than simple politeness. With that, he leaves the room for the kitchen again. Makoto moves to go to the kotatsu. Haru joins him, taking the spot he had been sitting before. His cup of hot cocoa is still there, three quarters of the way full.

“You didn’t finish your hot chocolate?” Makoto asks. Haru shakes his head.

“Too sweet.”

“Oh, right,” Makoto laughs. He glances at the hot chocolate again. “Is it still warm?”

Haru silently slides the hot chocolate to Makoto, who happily picks it up and drinks. It’s at a perfect balance between hot and cool enough to drink, warming his belly without burning it. He gulps it down quickly, leaving him with chocolate on his top lip. Haru snorts quietly at him.

“Sorry. I love hot chocolate,” Makoto says quickly, blushing as he licks his lip and wipes off his mouth.

“You love sugar,” Haru points out. He pauses. “Does it make you happy?”

Makoto tilts his head as he smiles.

“I suppose!”

Haru doesn’t say anything after that, a contemplative look on his face. Before Makoto can ask what he meant, Sousuke returns to the living room with a single plate of chocolate cake in hand. He sets it in front of Makoto and hands him a small dessert fork. Makoto frowns in confusion as Sousuke sits down opposite to Haru.

“You’re not having any?” he asks. Sousuke yawns and puts an elbow on the table, leaning his cheek on his fist.

“Nah. Not really in the mood for cake,” Sousuke says. Makoto swallows and takes his dessert fork. Haru and Sousuke are silent, watching him expectantly.

“It’s... embarrassing to be the only one having dessert,” Makoto admits, letting out a reflexive laugh that falters. He nibbles the inside of his cheek as he pokes at the cake. It’s made just the way he likes it—not at all dry or too dense. It makes his mouth water, but he feels tiny under the weight of both his boyfriend’s and his best friend’s gazes. He starts to sweat.

“Just eat it,” Sousuke sighs. “I made it for you.”

Makoto’s blush intensifies and he finally sinks his fork into the cake. As he brings it slowly to his lips, beads of sweat start forming on his forehead. Haru and Sousuke stare at him, unblinking. Makoto puts the cake in his mouth and almost melts.

“Well?” Sousuke presses.

“It’s delicious,” Makoto praises. “You’re really good at baking, Sousuke.”

Sousuke gives Makoto a little smile. However, it instantly fades as Haru grabs the plate and drags it closer to him. Before anyone can say anything, Haru sinks his finger into the frosting at the corner and pulls off a chunk of cake. He sticks his finger in his mouth, staring evenly at Sousuke.

“What the hell?” Sousuke asks. Haru pops his finger out of his mouth and pushes the cake back to Makoto.

“...Needs another pinch of salt,” he concludes. Makoto tenses as Sousuke bristles beside him.

“Excuse me?”

“Another pinch of salt.”

“I made the cake for _Makoto_. Makoto likes _sweet things_ ,” Sousuke growls. Haru’s face remains blank, which only riles Sousuke up more.

“He’ll get a stomach ache.”

“Haru, Sousuke, please,” Makoto whines, hurriedly putting a stop to the threat of escalation. “I love both of your baking equally.”

As if to prove a point, he takes a big bite of cake. The attention returns to his eating, which Sousuke and Haru watch with almost identical expressions of interest: their faces don’t show it, but their eyes sure do.

_They’re so weird._

But at least they’re not fighting. Makoto sighs through his nose and eats more cake, even though he’s not all that hungry.

If eating cake is what it takes to keep Haru and Sousuke from fighting, then he’ll eat all the cake in the world.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friends [Diana](http://coronaampora.tumblr.com) and [Nicole](http://syniio.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](http://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](http://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](http://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](http://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	44. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY. SO SORRY. But!!! I did well on my finals and I am now *officially* home for Christmas break! Updates still may be sporadic as I work to catch up on my quota.

After the cake incident, Makoto is naively hopeful; maybe Haru and Sousuke would be able to have a relationship like Sato and Sousuke, full of teasing and good-natured bickering. However, those thoughts are quickly dashed. As the week passes, the apartment becomes... quiet. Not the sort of comfy, cozy quiet, but a quiet that is tense and smothering. Sousuke and Haru avoid making eye contact using whatever means necessary. Makoto’s pretty sure that they haven’t said more than ten words to each other since the first night.

They don’t even use each other’s names when they absolutely have to address each other. Makoto can tell they’re both straining themselves, and he wonders how badly they want to strangle each other when he isn’t looking. He honestly doesn’t know how to approach the situation and, as November continues to be a cloudy, miserable, rainy month, his mood remains sour.

That being said, Sousuke becomes _much_ more affectionate in his attempts to mend their relationship. Makoto thinks it’s endearing, even though many of his romantic gestures happen to be a pat on the butt as he passes by. Things still feel a little strained and awkward, but Makoto welcomes the loving signals and returns them as much as he can manage—although with much more subtlety.

On Wednesday afternoon, when Sousuke returns from the gym, they slip under the covers and enjoying each other’s bodies. Sousuke’s skin is still cold from being outside, and the hems of his pant legs are wet.

“Mmn,” Makoto whines against Sousuke’s lips when his bare foot touches his cold, wet pant leg yet again. “...Mm, hm, can you take your pants off?”

Sousuke laughs, lifting his head and letting the covers slide down his back as he looks down at Makoto.

“That eager?” he jokes. Makoto flushes.

“N-No, I meant...!”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Sousuke drawls. He rolls off of Makoto and sits on the edge of the bed so he can unbutton his jeans and slide them off, leaving him in his sweater and boxers. Makoto sits up so he can lean his head on Sousuke’s shoulder, nuzzling the soft material of the black sweater with his cheek.

“It’s so soft,” he coos. Sousuke turns, hooking an arm around his waist and lying him back down on the bed so he can kiss up and down his jaw. Makoto loops his arms around Sousuke, smiling as he runs his hands up and down the back of his sweater. “Mm, is it cashmere?”

“Hell no, that’s too expensive. I picked it up at a thrift store, actually.”

“Well, how do you _know_ it’s not cashmere?” Makoto asks. Sousuke huffs and silences him with his lips, running his hands up and down his sides.

“I really don’t give a shit about what it’s made of. It fits, it’s comfortable, so I bought it,” Sousuke mutters. Makoto giggles and nuzzles against the crook of his neck. “You really like it?”

“Mhm.”

Sousuke lifts his head, one hand reaching up to brush Makoto’s bangs back.

“You like it when I wear soft stuff?” he asks quietly. Makoto nods.

“I just like soft things. It’s like petting a kitten,” he says. Realizing what he’s saying, he blushes and looks away. “Ah, sorry. That was weird.”

“I’ll get more soft stuff,” Sousuke says. “If it makes you happy.”

Makoto blinks up at Sousuke, tilting his head.

“You don’t have to go that far,” he says. “It’s okay, really.”

“And I wouldn’t mind having a cat around the house, either. Or a dog.”

Makoto, frowning, sits up and gently presses Sousuke back so he can sit cross-legged on the bed.

“What’s going on?” Makoto asks. Sousuke shrugs.

“I... well, your birthday is tomorrow and...” Sousuke trails off. He reaches out, looking almost absentminded as he strokes his thumb along Makoto’s bottom lip. “And you’ve still been down. And it’s... I don’t know what to do.”

Sousuke’s admission makes Makoto feel guilty. He knows he shouldn’t feel guilty for the way he’s feeling, but he does. An uncomfortable knot forms in his stomach and he shrugs.

“It’s not you. I don’t need any special presents,” Makoto says, forcing himself to smile. “Like I said before, I’m... having an off month.”

“Hmm,” Sousuke hums, looking unconvinced. Makoto reaches out, takes Sousuke’s face in his hands, and brings him closer. He lies back down on the bed and pulls Sousuke on top of him.

“Can we continue?” he asks. Sousuke nods once and leans in to kiss him again, settling his weight on top of him. However, he almost immediately pulls back up again.

“I feel like I’m going to crush you.”

“Why?” Makoto asks. Without a word, Sousuke takes the hem of Makoto’s shirt and pushes it up and over his head. Once it’s off, he peers down at Makoto’s chest until he starts to feel uncomfortable. Covering his chest with his arms, he whispers, “What is it?”

Sousuke traces his hands down Makoto’s belly, pressing into the soft flesh. His abs, no longer well-defined and tough, give a weak flutter.

“I’ll put my shirt back on,” Makoto says hurriedly, scrambling to grab for his shirt. Sousuke pushes it off the bed before Makoto can get to it, making him whine. “Sousuke, come on--”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Sousuke says. Makoto flushes red and covers his face with his hand.

“It’s gross, isn’t it?” he asks.

“No. It’s what happens when you’re not as active,” Sousuke says simply. “This is like... basic anatomy. It’s because you haven’t been to the gym.”

“Well, obviously,” Makoto mumbles. He hugs his chest again.

“You don’t like it? You can change that,” Sousuke urges. “You can come to the gym with me. I’ll coach you. You can get back into shape. You’re pretty quick to build muscle, so it won’t be hard.”

“Can we please just stop talking about it?” Makoto sighs. “I’m just going to put my shirt back on.”

“I’m telling you, exercise is going to make you feel better, and--”

“I _know_ ,” Makoto snaps, his voice much harsher than he intends it to be. He immediately backs down, timid. “...Sorry. It’s just... it’s really easy for you to say that.”

Sousuke sighs through his nose, a troubled look on his face.

“If it’s ugly, I’ll wear my shirt,” Makoto says quietly, a hint of bitterness in his voice. “I’m sorry.”

“The _hell_ are you apologizing for?” Sousuke asks. He rolls off of Makoto and lies on his side beside him, a hand draped over his waist. Makoto tenses, wanting to get his arm off of his soft belly, but he also doesn’t want to uncover his chest. He settles for squirming in discomfort.

“I don’t know,” Makoto admits. Sousuke shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

“This isn’t about appearance or any of that bullshit. I don’t care what body you have. If you were twice my size, I’d be okay with that. If you were, like, three feet tall, I’d be fine with that. I don’t give a shit if you’re ripped or soft or fat. What I _do_ give a shit about is your health. And... I’m not expert, but all of my health classes have taught me about this, and I’m seeing it from a textbook perspective, okay?” Sousuke says. He takes a breath, tapping his fingers on Makoto’s stomach. “You lost the muscle so fast. And your complexion is suffering because of it. Like... okay, if you had lost that muscle slowly and got softer over time, that’d be fine. I wouldn’t care. But this has happened in, like,  _two months_. That’s not normal, and it’s not healthy. And I’ll be honest, I’m freaked out.”

When he’s finally done, Makoto stares at him in shock. Sousuke frowns back at him.

“You know a lot about this,” Makoto murmurs. Sousuke scoffs.

“Of course. I’m a physical therapy major. This stuff is... health 101. But that’s not the _point_ ,” he stresses. “What is _going on?_ ”

“I don’t know. Haru thinks it’s because I miss the sun, which is really silly and stupid,” Makoto sighs. “But he’s kinda right, I mean...”

“You miss the sun,” Sousuke echoes.

“It sounds even more dumb when you say it,” Makoto complains, blushing and closing his eyes so he doesn’t have to look at Sousuke.

“It’s not dumb,” Sousuke assures him. “I’m just pissed I can’t do anything about the sun not being out.”

Makoto laughs and shakes his head, unable to help himself.

“Oh... this is so ridiculous,” he sighs. “I’m sorry.”

Sousuke pinches his tummy, making Makoto gasp and squirm.

“Don’t _apologize_ , damn it,” he grumbles. He leans down to give Makoto a firm kiss on the lips. When he pulls back, he’s scowling. “If I could, I’d give you the sun.”

He stops, wincing and looking away.

“Or... something like that,” he mutters, hunching his shoulders as his cheeks turn pink. Makoto bursts into laughter and Sousuke’s blush deepens. He starts smacking Makoto’s stomach. “Stop laughing at me!”

“Sousuke, you’re so cute,” Makoto coos just before Sousuke pushes himself up and kisses him breathless. Makoto’s giggles melt into soft, content sighs, and he slides his hands up Sousuke’s strong biceps to his neck, wrapping his arms around it. Warm fingers travel up and down his torso, testing the give of his flesh. Without Makoto’s arms in the way, Sousuke is allowed free passage to his chest, where his fingers trace along the curve of his pecs and the underside of his nipples.

“Ha,” Sousuke laughs awkwardly into Makoto’s mouth. Spluttering, Makoto moves his head away and to the side as he breathes a little harder.

“...W-What’s funny?” he asks. Sousuke shrugs as he plays with Makoto’s nipples. It doesn’t do much more for him other than the occasional tingle, but he shuts his eyes and moans softly anyway, for Sousuke’s sake.

“Your nipples. I think they’ve gotten bigger,” Sousuke says, a teasing tone in his voice. “Definitely softer. ‘Cuz you lost muscle.”

“That’s mean,” Makoto whines, covering his eyes with his wrist as Sousuke continues to fondle his chest and massage the somewhat soft flesh. His pecs aren’t _completely_ gone, at least, but they’re certainly not as prominent.

Sousuke settles himself between Makoto’s legs and scoots down so his face is lined up with his chest. Looking up through dark lashes, he lands a kiss just to the side of Makoto’s nipple, pinching the other one in between his thumb and forefinger. The look Sousuke gives him itself is enough for a pleasant, warm ache to drop down from his stomach to his lower abdomen. He moans softly, petting Sousuke’s hair.

“Do you like doing that?” Makoto asks breathily. Sousuke just lets out a small grunt and latches on, sucking. Makoto winces against the slight sting of it and shifts again. At Makoto’s discomfort, Sousuke pops off and sighs, laying his head on his chest.

“Too bad it doesn’t do much for you,” he mutters. Makoto cradles Sousuke’s head.

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologizes, patting him lightly on the head and smiling. “I mean... it doesn’t feel bad or anything. If you want to...”

“Mm,” Sousuke hums. He presses another kiss to his nipple. “What if I bite it?”

“W-Well...”

Without warning, Sousuke moves his mouth over Makoto’s nipple and nibbles on it, rolling it between his teeth and sending sharp tingles down Makoto’s body.

“Ah,” he gasps softly, gripping Sousuke’s hair. “Mm, okay, _that_ \--”

Sousuke laughs and lifts his head, smirking.

“There it is,” he teases. Makoto licks his lips and reaches out to rub Sousuke’s forearm. Immediately understanding his intentions, Sousuke yanks the covers over them once more. “I’m on bottom?”

“But I want to be on bottom.”

“Well, then we’re going to have a problem. Hands up, we’re throwing down.”

Makoto laughs and playfully rolls his eyes, lifting his hands. Just as they’re about to play a round of rock-paper-scissors, there’s a loud clattering from the kitchen that has Sousuke’s head snapping up.

“What was that?” he asks. Makoto laughs a bit nervously.

“I think Haru’s cooking,” he mumbles. Sousuke pinches his lips together and sits up fully, looking over his shoulder as he listens for more movement in the kitchen.

“That’s _my_ kitchen,” he grumbles.

“ _Our_ kitchen,” Makoto corrects gently. Sitting up, he puts his hand on Sousuke’s thigh. “He doesn’t make messes when he cooks. He likes chores and cleaning, too.”

“Mmm,” Sousuke hums. He relaxes a little, but he still has a scowl on his face. “Did you tell him he can’t get between us?”

“Yes,” Makoto says. “I did, and he said okay.”

“I’m just waiting for him to purposely try and piss me off. The cake thing made me want to punt him out a window.”

“I promise that wasn’t on purpose,” Makoto sighs. “Haru is... Haru. The Haru that annoys you is... well, he’s a lot like my Haru.”

“So you’re saying he’s always an annoying little shit?” Sousuke scoffs.

“I can’t take him to a pet store, or he’ll take off his clothes and climb into a fish tank,” Makoto deadpans. Sousuke stares at him, his lips pulled back in mild disgust.

“What the hell?”

“Haru’s... endearing?” Makoto tries, his voice faltering.

“Endearing? He’s a nutcase.”

“Stooop,” Makoto says, pinching Sousuke’s thigh. “I don’t want to argue about this.”

“I’m not _arguing_ , I’m just saying,” Sousuke huffs. He looks at the door. “It’s quiet in there. I’m going to check it out.”

Makoto protests weakly as Sousuke gets up and pulls his jeans back on. Hurriedly putting his shirt on, Makoto hastens to follow Sousuke into the kitchen. They find Haru standing at the stove and slicing celery into a small pot. The moment Sousuke is in the doorway, Haru tenses and side-eyes him, but doesn’t miss a beat in his slicing.

“Who said you could use the kitchen?” Sousuke asks. Makoto steps in quickly.

“I did,” he says. “I told him it would probably be okay with you.”

“Are those _my_ ingredients? That _I_ bought?”

“I bought them myself,” Haru mumbles. Sousuke shuts his mouth, but glowers as he crosses his arms. Haru flashes him a look. “I won’t mess up your kitchen.”

“Yeah, well, you managed to fuck up your _entire_ apartment’s plumbing, so _sorry_ if I’m being overly cautious,” Sousuke snaps, bristling.

“Stop,” Makoto interrupts.

“I said it wasn’t my fault,” Haru bites back.

“ _Stop_ ,” Makoto repeats. He groans and pinches the bridge of his nose, knowing this is going to give him a headache if it continues on any longer. “Sousuke, just let him use the kitchen, okay? Haru, just clean up after yourself.”

“I was _planning_ on it,” Haru mutters. He throws the last of the celery into the pot and stirs it, glaring down into it.

“Fine. Whatever,” Sousuke mutters, cracking his neck as he turns and leaves the kitchen. Makoto heaves a sigh and pads after him.

“Are you mad at me?” he asks. It comes out of his mouth in an exasperated tone without him realizing it--he is in absolutely no mood to fight right now. He’d rather crawl back into bed and stay there for a year.

“I’m... no. I’m sick and tired of having a stranger in my house,” Sousuke grumbles. He goes to the living room and flops down on the couch. Makoto joins him, resting a hand on his thigh. “And Nanase, of all people. I feel like he’s going to burn the place down or something.”

“He _won’t_ ,” Makoto says, starting to feel like a broken record. He grinds his teeth and crosses his arms, leaning back on the couch and looking away from Sousuke. “And he feels really uncomfortable, too.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought he was the _guest_ in my apartment,” Sousuke bites. Makoto clenches his teeth. “I know you’re pissed I haven’t said sorry to him yet, but it’s hard to find a good time, you know. I mean, he’s some guy I’ve hated since _high school._ No big deal.”

“I’m not _mad_ you haven’t said sorry,” Makoto says, his voice tight. “I just wish you two would be willing for all three of us to sit down and work this out, instead of fighting every single time we look at each other. And this is Haru’s fault, too. And my fault, like Iwao-san said.”

He looks at Sousuke, his forehead creased.

“I’m _trying_ , okay? I’m trying as hard as I can to get us all on equal levels so we can talk it out,” Makoto insists. “And--”

“Yamazaki.”

Makoto and Sousuke stiffen as Haru walks through the doorway. He looks conflicted, like he doesn’t want to look either of them in the eye, but he passes it off as nonchalance.

“... _What?_ ” Sousuke asks, his voice threatening to dip into a snarl.

Makoto feels his heart sink, and he prepares himself for the shouting match to begin. However, it never comes.

“Do you like ginger?”

Makoto blinks and looks up at Sousuke, who is staring at Haru with a confused expression on his face.

“...Huh?”

“ _Ginger_ ,” Haru says curtly. His voice softens, “In miso soup. Do you like it?”

“Not... not usually, no,” Sousuke says warily. He glances at Makoto, who just shrugs. “Why?”

Haru doesn’t answer, and instead turns and leaves the room. Sousuke makes a bewildered gesture at the doorway, his mouth opening and closing but no sound coming out.

“What was that?” he finally asks when he finds his voice.

“I... I don’t know,” Makoto admits, fidgeting. Before Sousuke can say anything more, Haru returns to the living room with a small tasting dish cupped delicately in his hands. Without a word, he brings it to Sousuke and hands it to him.

“What the hell is this?” Sousuke asks, defensive. Haru scowls.

“I _said_ it’s miso soup. Taste it.”

“You weren’t just making miso soup for yourself and Makoto?” Sousuke asks, wary. Haru shrugs.

“No.”

Sousuke eyes Haru suspiciously, but takes the tasting dish from his hands anyway and stares at him evenly as he brings the dish to his lips and sips. He pauses, tenses, and hands it back to Haru.

“...It’s good,” he says. Haru’s scowl fades and returns to its usual blank expression. Sousuke flashes his teeth. “...But it could use another _pinch of salt_.”

Haru’s scowl immediately returns. He turns on his heel and marches out of the room. Makoto gives Sousuke a look.

“What?”

“I didn’t say anything,” Makoto says. Sousuke’s face becomes solemn, and he jerks his thumb towards the kitchen.

“Uh... so what was _that_ supposed to be? Some sort of peace offering?”

“Haru isn’t very good at this,” Makoto laughs softly. “But yes, I think that’s what that was. He doesn’t usually ask people what they like in anything, actually. He always makes my mackerel with pineapple, even though he knows I hate it.”

“Is that his special skill? Pissing people off?” Sousuke scoffs. Makoto giggles.

“No, no. He’s just… well, other people think he’s hard to communicate with.”

“How did a guy like that end up friends with Rin?” Sousuke asks rhetorically, shaking his head. “Honestly.”

“I think he drives Rin crazy, too,” Makoto points out. “Haru has always had a really hard time making friends.”

“How did _you_ guys meet, then?”

“Our moms say we met on the sidewalk, when we were still in strollers,” Makoto says. He smiles at the memory of his mom, comforted by the nostalgia. “And we were never apart since.”

“So almost your whole lives?”

“Mhm.”

Sousuke goes quiet after that, pondering.

“That’s... pretty cool,” he finally admits. Makoto perks up, moving closer to Sousuke and setting his hand on his thigh. Sousuke slowly rests his hand on top of Makoto’s. “I thought me and Rin knew each other for a long time, but that’s impressive. Were you always bigger than him, though?”

“No!” Makoto says, perhaps a little _too_ excited to be able to talk to Sousuke about Haru without it turning into a fight. He smiles shyly and lowers his voice a little. “I actually used to be shorter than him.”

Sousuke tip his head back and laughs.

“Seriously? That’s hard to imagine. That explains why you kept hiding behind him at the stupid Halloween thing.”

“Oh, you noticed that?” Makoto asks. He scratches his cheek. “That’s... kinda embarrassing.”

“No, I was just wondering why... well, I’m way bigger than Nanase, you know. You could’ve hid behind me.”

“...Sousuke, did that make you jealous?” Makoto asks slowly. Sousuke sets his jaw and looks away.

“ _No,_ ” he huffs. “I’m just _saying_.”

“I don’t know, that sounds a lot like je--”

“I _said_ I wasn’t jealous.”

Makoto laughs as Sousuke scowls, his cheekbones turning pink.

“Well, Haru has always been there when I’m scared. Even during sleepovers, we’d sleep on the same futon. I couldn’t go to sleep without holding onto his shirt,” Makoto says. Sousuke sneaks a glance at him.

“Really?”

“Yeah... I was an even bigger scaredy-cat when I was little.”

“That’s really saying something,” Sousuke says, smirking. Makoto blushes.

“W-Well... I get it from my mom.”

“I think it’s cute.”

Sousuke’s hand tightens on Makoto’s. Feeling better than he has all week, Makoto smiles and leans in to press his forehead to Sousuke’s, brushing their noses together.

“I love you,” he murmurs. Sousuke takes a small, shaking breath.

“You haven’t said that to me in a while,” he says. Makoto furrows his brows and pulls back to look into Sousuke’s eyes.

“I haven’t?” he asks. Sousuke frowns and averts his eyes.

“Ah, well. It’s not a big deal or anything,” he mutters. Makoto, overwhelmed with emotion, grabs Sousuke’s face in his hands and kisses him hard, not letting him go until he’s had his fill. He doesn’t apologize vocally, unable to find the strength inside of him to do so, but Sousuke seems to get the message.

The pain in Makoto’s chest sharpens until he feels it in his throat. He never realized he was neglecting to tell Sousuke something as simple as ‘I love you’. He can’t even remember the last time he said it. It’s such a stupid, three-word sentence, and he couldn’t even say it to Sousuke, the person who absolutely needs it the most.

“Are you okay?” Sousuke asks hesitantly. He doesn’t seem to know where to place his hands. For his sake, Makoto forces himself to give Sousuke his usual sunbeam smile, but it quivers.

“I’m okay.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friends [Diana](http://coronaampora.tumblr.com) and [Nicole](http://syniio.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](http://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](http://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](http://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](http://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh. My. God.
> 
> I am so sorry this is so unbelievably late. So, so, so sorry. A LOT of shit happened, leaving me pretty emotionally stretched out. Also, my boyfriend is up for Christmas from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, so any work that I've done on the chapter has been when he's asleep or when we're both hanging out on our computers. And I've had the flu... basically it's been super hard to do anything here! With that said, I think some people need some reassurance regarding what direction this fanfiction is taking, so please [click this link and read the following](http://porrimicide.tumblr.com/post/105849938658/thank-you-all-so-much-for-your-patience).
> 
> Thank you so much for your patience! (Updates will still be slow/sporadic for the time being!)
> 
> **Introducing our new part-time editor, [Chris](http://sometimes-morgan-freeman.tumblr.com)!

Makoto wakes up to his phone ringing. He’s half tempted to just ignore it, but the ringing continues loudly and persistently. Moaning, he reaches out from under the covers and fumbles for his phone before bringing it to his ear.

“...Hello...?”

 _“Happy birthday, sweetie!”_  

“Hi, Mom. Thanks,” Makoto mumbles sleepily.

_“Happy birthday, kiddo.”_

“Thanks, Dad.”

It’s chilly, and his hands are too cold to hold his phone up to his ear. Burrowing into his pillow, Makoto shuts his eyes while he balances his phone on the side of his face and stuffs his hands between his thighs.

 _“We just sent a care package with some treats and presents in it for you. Ran and Ren even drew pictures. They’re at school right now, but I’ll have them call you later tonight when they’re home. I just couldn’t wait to hear your voice!”_ Kimiko gushes. _“But you sound a little stuffed up, honey. Are you sick?”_

“No... I just woke up,” Makoto says. Before he can fall back asleep, he forces himself to push the covers off himself and sit up. The clock reads eleven in the morning—he still has two hours until class. But as he looks outside and sees grey skies, a huge wave of apathy washes over him and he flops back down into bed.

 _“You just woke up?”_ Kimiko asks. _“It’s eleven, silly!”_

 _“Late night studying?”_ Junpei inquires. He chuckles. _“Or were you partying?”_

“Uh... studying,” Makoto fibs. He probably shouldn’t tell them he fell asleep at around nine last night. His parents seem to buy it as they start laughing.

 _“Atta boy,”_ Junpei praises. Makoto hums and looks out the window again. It’s sprinkling. Before he can stop himself, he lets out a big sigh.

 _“Honey? You sound upset, is something wrong?”_ Kimiko asks. Makoto can practically see the concern on her face, and he hunches his shoulder with guilt.

“Ah! No, no, I’m...” Makoto trails off. It’s really no use lying to his parents—Junpei catches him every time. He groans. “Well... I guess I’ve been feeling... I don’t know, I’ve been feeling a little down lately.”

 _“Down?”_ Kimiko echoes. Makoto stares blankly up at the ceiling.

“Yeah...” he murmurs. “The weather is really bad over here, and... I guess--”

 _“Well, it’s nothing good food won’t fix,”_ Kimiko says cheerfully. _“And if you still feel bad, why not have some honey lemon ginseng tea? That’ll pick you up right away!”_

“Oh. Um...” Makoto trails off. He forces himself to sound lighthearted. “I’ll try that. Thanks, Mom.”

_“Of course, sweetheart. And—oh, that reminds me. The tea! I’m giving the phone to your dad, I’ll be right back.”_

Makoto listens to the shuffling as the phone is passed over. He suddenly feels ashamed when he hears his father’s voice.

_“You’re not feeling well?”_

“I’m sorry,” Makoto apologizes reflexively.

_“What’s there to be sorry for?”_

“Mom doesn’t really understand. I don’t think this has anything to do with food,” Makoto mutters. He realizes he sounds bitter and takes a breath to apologize again, but Junpei interrupts him.

 _“Your mom has your best interests at heart,”_ Junpei assures him. _“But, you know her. Food solves everything. Maybe you could see if there’s anyone you can talk to, instead. I don’t know if Sousuke-kun is… well, is he part of the reason you’re feeling down?”_

“...A little bit,” Makoto admits. “How could you tell?”

_“I just had a feeling. Alright, if you can’t really talk to him about it, why not Haru-kun?”_

“He’s… well, he’s part of the reason, too.”

Junpei is silent for a few moments. Makoto frowns, hoping he didn’t worry his father too much.

“Dad?”

_“Ah. Yes, I see. Well, if they’re both not available, how about a counselor? Why not try that? You have them on campus, right? Just talk to somebody. Maybe it’ll help you feel better. If not... we’ll see what we can do. Maybe you can come home for a weekend.”_

“You don’t have to go that far for me,” Makoto sighs. “Flying there costs so much.”

 _“Sometimes you need to separate yourself from... whatever’s making you depressed,”_ Junpei explains. _“Well, the weather has been pretty nasty here, too. But at least you’ll be with family. Mom can make you something good, and I can... well, fishing might be out of the question. We can certainly take a look at your tackle box. It hasn’t been touched in a while, right? I can buy you some new tackle. And you can play with the twins. You know they’d love to have you here.”_

Makoto doesn’t answer, because he chokes up and nearly bursts into tears. He covers his eyes with his hand and bites his lip so hard he nearly breaks the skin.

_“Son? Are you there?”_

“Yeah, Dad. I’m still here. That sounds great,” Makoto croaks. He turns his head away from the phone so his dad can’t hear his shaking exhale. “I miss you guys a lot.”

_“We miss you, too. Now, why don’t you take a look at your calendar? If you have a break coming up, or a long weekend, let us know. We’re more than happy to fly you down to Iwatobi. Your health is worth more than any amount of money we have.”_

“Okay. Thanks, Dad.”

_“Alright. I hope you have a very happy birthday. Tell Sousuke-kun hello from us. I love you.”_

“Love you too.”

 _“I love you! Happy birthday, honey!”_ Kimiko’s muffled voice yells. Makoto laughs weakly, and Junpei chuckles.

_“Goodbye.”_

“Bye.”

Makoto keeps the phone pressed to his ear even after they hang up. The comfort of their words only lasts a second before guilt washes over him. They’re more than happy to spend money on flying him down to Iwatobi for a weekend, but he knows they’ll have to cut into savings in order to do that.

_What if they’re saving up for Ran and Ren’s birthday? What if they’re saving for a fishing trip for Dad, or a new cookware set for Mom?_

The thought makes Makoto’s chest burn. He isn’t going to check his calendar. He’ll just have to wait for winter break, but he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to last until the end of December.

“Selfish,” Makoto whispers to himself. He smacks his phone down onto the bed and stands. The self-loathing continues even as he showers and brushes his teeth. He’s a grown man; homesickness shouldn’t be on the list of emotions for someone his age. He has responsibilities, a relationship, a home.

Makoto straightens to look at himself in the mirror, staring blankly at the deep blue bags under his eyes that never seem to go away. There’s a new cluster of angry, red pimples along his jaw, but Makoto doesn’t even have the motivation to try and wash his face again. Instead, he goes to his bedroom to pull on clothes.

Every new piece of clothing takes a little bit of energy out of him. By the time he has his belt fastened, there’s nothing he’d rather do than take the clothes right off and climb back into bed. He forces himself to continue on; he has an exam today in one of his classes, and he can’t afford to miss it.

When he’s finished getting ready, he walks out into the living room to check if anyone’s home. The apartment is completely empty, so he sighs and goes to the front door to put on his shoes and coat.

The one mile walk to the station is the worst. The wind howls, threatening to pull the hood of Makoto’s coat off. It blows right through his jeans, which are already soaked at the hem from stepping in a puddle that was deeper than it looked. The rain comes down in a fine mist, so no matter how much Makoto bows his head, his face manages to get wet. He walks all the way to the station in silence, not even bothering to plug his earbuds into his phone so he can listen to music.

The train isn’t too crowded, and Makoto even manages to find a seat. He spends the duration of the ride staring down at his hands in his lap and trying not to think about how uncomfortable he is with damp clothes. It never used to bother him; back in the swim club, damp clothes were not uncommon. Now, it’s just annoying.

He’s so lost in thought that he doesn’t even realize his body is moving. Like clockwork, he gets off the train at his stop and emerges from the station onto the street running into campus. He barely studied for his exam, but even worrying about the possibility that he’ll fail is too much effort.

“Maaakooo- _kuuun!_ ”

Makoto jumps as someone smacks his back. He turns to see Sato, who has her usual Cheshire grin on her lips.

“Hey Mako-kun! I was calling your name, but you didn’t answer, so at first I thought you were someone else, but then I recognized your fluffy hood, so I thought you were just ignoring me or something. That’s pretty mean,” Sato scolds. Makoto laughs and scratches at his cheek.

“Ah. Sorry,” he apologizes. “I was just... thinking about my exam.”

“Oh, you have an exam? What class?”

“Chemistry,” Makoto replies. He starts to walk again, and Sato hurries alongside him.

“Oh, you’re going to the science building? Me too!” Sato says. “Let’s go together.”

“Aren’t Thursdays free for you?” Makoto asks. “Why are you here?”

“Oh, well, I gotta talk to one of my professors, and her office hours are only today from noon to four. It really sucks, ‘cuz I don’t like wasting gas money.”

“Is that so?” Makoto asks, even though he’s not really paying attention. He watches the sidewalk for puddles, carefully sidestepping any that threaten to make his pant legs any more wet than they already are. Sato gives him a strange look.

“Are you okay?” she asks. Makoto sighs.

“I’m fine, Sato-san. Just kinda... tired,” he says. Well, he isn’t _lying_.

“Tired,” Sato echoes. She doesn’t look convinced, but she shrugs anyway. “Well, okay. Just... Mako-kun?”

Makoto glances at Sato, who looks straight ahead.

“Yeah?”

“If you ever need me for anything, I’ll be there for you,” Sato says. She holds up a pinky. “I promise.”

Makoto smiles, hooks his pinky on Sato’s, and nods.

“Thanks, Sato-san. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Once they get to the science building, Makoto bids Sato good luck on her meeting with her professor and slips into his classroom. The test isn’t due to start in about fifteen minutes, so he sighs and finds a place to sit so he can cram.

Just as Makoto is about to open his notebook, the door to the lecture hall slams open. Everyone turns to look, where Sato is standing in the entrance with her chest heaving and her arms wide open.

“Mako-kun!” she yells. “ _Happy birthday!_ ”

Makoto flushes bright red as Sato points to him. The rest of the class turns to look at him, some of them wishing him happy birthday and laughing.

With a groan, Makoto drops his head into his arms and tries to hide his beet red ears.

\---

The way home from the station isn’t as bad as it was earlier, but it _is_ cold. With his arms crossed and his head down, Makoto walks through the icy wind. He wants nothing more than to strip down to his underwear and climb into bed. Maybe if he naps, his exam score won’t be as painful to think about. He knows it’ll be a miracle if he clears eighty percent.

“Hey.”

At the sound of Sousuke’s voice, Makoto jumps and looks left and right, suddenly realizing he’s already in his apartment’s parking lot.

“Up here.”

Makoto looks up to the balcony of the second floor and sees Sousuke leaning over the railing and looking down at him.

“Oh. Hi,” Makoto greets, smiling as he makes his way to the stairs and climbs up. At the top, Sousuke is there to meet him, arms outstretched. Makoto lets himself be pulled into a tight, warm embrace. Sighing, Makoto nestles his face into the crook of Sousuke’s neck and breathes in the faint scent of cologne and vanilla. “You smell nice.”

Sousuke laughs, low and comfortingly familiar, and tightens his arms around Makoto’s body.

“Welcome home,” he says softly. He pulls Makoto back so he can take his chin between his thumb and forefinger and guide him in for a kiss. It’s a chaste, quick peck on the lips, but Makoto welcomes it all the same.

“I’m home,” Makoto responds, pressing their foreheads together. Sousuke reaches down to take his hand and starts pulling him towards the apartment.

“And happy bir--”

The door to their apartment suddenly swings open. Haru pokes his head out, his face expressionless.

“Happy birthday,” he deadpans.

“Happy _birthday_ ,” Sousuke finishes hurriedly, glowering. Haru’s face remains blank, but his eyes are smug.

“Thank you, thank you,” Makoto coos. The extra attention has him embarrassed as Haru opens the door the rest of the way for him and Sousuke.

When he steps inside, he smells green curry and chocolate cake right away. It’s a weird mixture, but Makoto wouldn’t mind it if he came home to this every day.

As he walks into the kitchen, he spots two birthday presents sitting on the counter, wrapped in shimmering paper. One of them is neat, with finely creased corners and minimal tape—it’s as pretty as a present in a commercial. The other isn’t shabby or anything, but the corners are slightly loose and wrinkled. Makoto can’t keep the smile off his face--he knows exactly who wrapped what.

“You didn’t have to get _gifts_ ,” he murmurs, stepping forward to tangle his fingers in the stringy bows placed on top of each box. “But thank you so much.”

“You can open them now if you want,” Sousuke offers. Makoto purses his lips, thinking. Haru goes to the curry on the stove and gives it a stir.

“It’ll be a while before it’s done,” he says. “Open your presents.”

“Okay,” Makoto agrees. He scoops up the gifts in his arms—they’re lighter than he expected. “Let’s go to the living room.”

Haru and Sousuke follow after Makoto close behind. Even without looking, Makoto can feel the tension between the two of them, and he prays that it doesn’t escalate today.

Once they’re seated around the kotatsu, Makoto sets the two gifts in front of him. He blushes, feeling like a child as he tries to decide which one to open first. They sit there for a long time in uncomfortable silence.

“Well?” Sousuke finally asks. He crosses his arms. “Open them.”

“I don’t know which one to open,” Makoto whines, laughing nervously and glancing between the two of them. “Sh-Should... I open a certain one first?”

“It’s not a big deal,” Haru mutters.

“Do you want us to throw down?” Sousuke asks. Haru looks away with an eyeroll so subtle only Makoto can catch it.

“Just open Yamazaki’s.”

Sousuke starts to scowl, but Makoto is quick to bring Sousuke’s gift closer.

“I’ll just open Sousuke’s first!” he says hastily. Feeling awkward and embarrassed, Makoto starts to unwrap his gift, careful to save the bow.

It’s a small, rectangular box with a picture of a cubic, white light on it. He’s not sure if it’s a desk lamp or a nightlight. His brow wrinkling in confusion, he turns it over and over in his hands and tries to figure out what it is.

“Ah, jeez,” Sousuke grumbles. He scratches the back of his neck. “Okay, let me explain. This thing is a ‘Happy Light’. It’s supposed to like... imitate the sun, kinda? Like... the lights in greenhouses. It helps increase your mood with Vitamin D and stuff. I thought it was pretty sweet.”

Makoto stares at Sousuke, then looks down at his gift, running his thumb along the picture of the light.

“I thought about giving you a ring, or a necklace like this one,” Sousuke continues, hooking his thumb on the cord of his caduceus pendant and gesturing to it. He’s starting to look embarrassed, a bit of pink appearing along the top of his cheekbone. “Or... whatever. But... I don’t know, this seemed like more of a priority.”

“It’s perfect,” Makoto says when he finally finds his voice. Swallowing around the knot in his throat, he reaches for Sousuke’s hand and gives it a little squeeze. “Thank you.”

Sousuke’s hunched shoulders relax and he offers Makoto a small smile, looking relieved.

“I’m glad you like it. Now... uh, open Nanase’s.”

Haru, who has been silent this whole time, doesn’t look at Makoto or Sousuke. His face is turned away, and there’s a strange look in his eyes as Makoto brings his present closer. As Makoto unwraps it, Haru starts to tense up.

Makoto tears the paper away to find... the exact same gift. It’s another Happy Light, the same exact brand and model. Sousuke stares at it for a long time, his scowl progressively deepening until he turns sharply to Haru.

“What the hell? Did you do this on purpose?” he accuses. Haru looks up, glaring.

“I bought _mine_ before you did, _idiot_ ,” he snaps.

“ _Bullshit!_ ”

Makoto ignores their fighting, too busy staring at his gifts in awe as he holds them side by side. The exact same gift—both equally strange, but so sorely needed. The thought of Sousuke and Haru poring over gift ideas separately but coming to the same conclusion makes Makoto’s eyes start to sting. He bites his lip and blinks rapidly to try and keep the tears at bay.

He doesn’t deserve either of them in his life at all.

It takes Sousuke and Haru a few minutes to realize Makoto’s crying, and their fighting dies down into silence.

“Makoto?” Sousuke asks hesitantly. Haru furrows his brow, looking uncomfortable as Makoto bows his head. His tears grow heavier, spilling from his eyes uncontrollably and flooding down his face in a steady stream. The first sob is torn from his body so violently and so painfully that Makoto puts his hand over his heart as if to hold it in place. He can’t tell if he’s happy or sad.

He cries so hard he scarcely remembers his own name. Broken, ugly sobs are dragged out of him one by one until his throat is raw and his eyes burn. It’s hard for him to breathe, much less get any sort of explanation out, so Haru and Sousuke just stare at him in open shock, their hands half-raised to reach for Makoto, but finding no way to do so. They almost look horrified.

Finally, he begins to calm down, taking deep breaths peppered by the occasional hiccup or gasp. Sousuke looks hollow and pained, as if someone died. Haru just looks angry.

“Uh,” Sousuke finally begins. He scratches his arm. “...Holy shit.”

“What did you _do_ ,” Haru begins, his words harshly annunciated and his teeth gritted. “To make him cry like that?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Sousuke exclaims. He glances at Makoto, shrinking back slightly. “I... well, I don’t know if I did… did I? If it’s the gift, we can return it. We can get a ring or something--shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I--”

He’s starting to look panicked, so Makoto musters up enough strength to shake his head.

“It wasn’t that,” Makoto croaks. “I just... these gifts are so thoughtful. And I didn’t do anything to deserve them.”

He pinches his lips together, feeling another round of tears welling up in his eyes. It felt good to cry like that, and his body almost craves it.

“And... I don’t think I deserve you two, either,” Makoto continues. He looks up at the ceiling, but more tears are already starting to slide down his cheeks. “I’ve been so... selfish, and I really don’t deserve--”

“You were never selfish,” Haru interrupts.

“...You’re not selfish,” Sousuke adds. “Honestly, I thought my gift was shitty. I’ve been anxious about it all day.”

“That’s why I’m selfish,” Makoto moans. “I’m making you anxious. And Haru... I...”

He looks up and their gazes meet. Slowly, Haru’s eyes narrow. Realization, then betrayal, anger, and fear cross his features all at once. His jaw tightens and he sharply looks away. Makoto feels the reflexive need to apologize. Biting his lip, he tries to think of something to say. _I’m sorry Sato-san told me that you have queerplatonic feelings for me?_ It’d sound horrible. Sousuke would probably freak out, too.

“What a goddamn mess,” Sousuke sighs, not picking up on Haru and Makoto’s silent communication. He rubs the back of his neck. “...Nanase. Look. I wanted to say it sooner, but... well, it was difficult. I just... I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for _what?_ ” Haru asks, his voice tight. Sousuke tenses, his shoulders hunching.

“For... when we were in high school... and I threatened you. And treated you like shit, because... yeah,” Sousuke finishes weakly, looking humiliated. Haru just stares at him.

“...Is that supposed to be some sort of _birthday_ present?” Haru asks. Sousuke blinks.

“What?”

“Why keep it for Makoto’s birthday?” Haru presses, his voice steadily rising as his eyes flash with anger. “Have you been _dangling_ _it_ over his head?”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” Sousuke asks loudly. “I’m _apologizing_ to you!”

“Are you apologizing, or just trying to make up for making Makoto cry?” Haru hisses.

“He said that’s not why he was crying!”

“And who made him feel that way in the first place?!”

“ _STOP!_ ” Makoto screams, promptly silencing both Sousuke and Haru. They look away from each other as Makoto shakes. “I hate this. I hate that you two can’t go one day without fighting!”

Haru and Sousuke don’t answer.

“When you’re separate, I can’t think of anyone who I love more than you two,” he continues. “But when you’re together, you’re _awful!_ ”

“Then just choose _him_ ,” Haru says bitterly.

“Haru--” Makoto begins. Haru grits his teeth.

“Just do what you _want!_ ”

With that, he springs to his feet and hurries out of the room. The bathroom door slams shut. Makoto and Sousuke sit alone, staring down at the table.

“I wasn’t apologizing as some sort of fucked up birthday present. I apologized because I didn’t want to fight today, of all days,” Sousuke mutters. Makoto shakes his head.

“If you’re going to say sorry, say it for Haru. Don’t say sorry for my sake.”

“I... fine.”

“I don’t think I can take this anymore. The fighting, I mean,” Makoto admits. “I’ve said this before; if you can’t accept Haru, it’s over. I mean it.”

“I know,” Sousuke sighs.

“But if Haru can’t accept you, it’ll be hard to forgive him,” Makoto adds quietly. Sousuke snorts, leaning his elbow on the table and propping his cheek on his fist as he shakes his head.

“If we end it, I won’t hold it against you,” he says. Makoto frowns deeply, his fists clenching in his lap. He can almost literally feel his relationship fizzling out as Sousuke speaks. His voice is so tired, and Makoto knows he’s at the brink of giving up. “But I don’t want you to think I didn’t try. And I don’t want to break up thinking what we had was a failure.”

“If we break up, of course it’s a failure,” Makoto laughs humorlessly.

“I’ve spent my whole _life_ giving up on my dreams,” Sousuke stresses. “I _know_ what failure is, and this isn’t it. We’ve both really fucked up to get where we are right now, but I won’t walk away from this with any regrets. I’m happy that I met you. I’m happy for the two years we’ve been together. You made me a better person. I’d never take it back.”

Sousuke takes a breath and looks down at his hands on the table, picking at a hangnail.

“And I hope you wouldn’t take it back, either.”

“ _Stop_ ,” Makoto whimpers. He puts his head in his hands as a brand new wave of tears start dripping down his face. The pain in his chest hurts so bad he can barely breathe.

“Everything’s fucked up and I _still_ don’t want to break up yet,” Sousuke laughs grimly. “I want us to try one more time to make things right.”

Makoto sniffles and nods, wiping at his tear streaks with the back of his hand.

“One more time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to [Chris](http://sometimes-morgan-freeman.tumblr.com), and my dear friends [Diana](http://coronaampora.tumblr.com) and [Nicole](http://syniio.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](http://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](http://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](http://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](http://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	46. Chapter 46

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UGH. It's been a while, but hello!!! Once again, I was certified Busy With Life™ and couldn't do anything about it. Over the course of the past... what, two weeks? since the last update, I could only sit down and write like a paragraph at a time, and not look at it for a while, and... yeah, it was messy. BIG kudos to my editors for being able to iron this chapter out, because it was so damn rough when it went into editing, it took three days to make it publish-ready. So here it is! This chapter was incredibly hard on me, yet again. But, if you're feeling just as emotionally drained as I am, here's some good news: the following chapters will not be nearly as hard for me to write. Interpret that as you will!
> 
> **Just as a warning: in this chapter, there is a BRIEF mention of the suicide of an unnamed character. It is not any character that has been previously introduced, mentioned, or even hinted at in FEFSKY. The character is not a college student, and it is an event that took place several years prior (meaning it is not in the news). The event is not at all described or heavily discussed in any way--it is simply stated that it happened. This information does not spoil anything, but those of you who are triggered by it, please be aware. I have made it clear several times on my blog that suicide is not a topic I wish to explore in a fanfiction--so please know that it is not some sort of 'foreshadowing' for the main characters WHATSOEVER. The brief mention in this chapter will be the extent to which I discuss suicide in this fanfiction. Period.

After Makoto’s birthday, the tension in the house reaches its breaking point. Fighting ensues. For almost a whole week straight, Haru and Sousuke do nothing but fight. Every mistake, every comment, every complaint; it all ends in fighting. It starts off quiet; hushed, angry voices late at night in the kitchen or a snide comment in the hallway. It escalates into full-blown shouting matches in the middle of the living room by Wednesday--Makoto does nothing to stop it.

He’s completely out of energy. He spends almost the whole week curled up in bed, trying not to listen to the never-ending stalemate between Sousuke and Haru. Sousuke tries and tries to make amends, but every attempt ends up sounding sarcastic and haphazard. Haru tries his hardest to just avoid the fighting altogether, but Sousuke’s persistence provokes him to the point that even his usually soft voice rises into a shout.

Their fights keep coming  back to the same thing: Makoto, Makoto, Makoto. Every fight is the same with different words in a different place, and not an inch of progress is made.

On Friday, Makoto is curled up in bed when it begins. One moment, he hears Haru coming home from practice, and the next, Sousuke and Haru are yelling at each other. He heaves a sigh, trying to tune it out like he usually does. Rolling onto his opposite side, he looks up at the two Happy Lights sitting on his bedside table. They glow softly but, despite their light, Makoto feels hollow.

When he hears something slam and clatter to the floor, Makoto shuts his eyes, takes a deep breath, and sits up in bed. Without a sound, he hauls his duffel bag out from underneath the bed and dumps his gym shoes out of it. As the fighting in the other room escalates, he grabs his phone and texts Sato.

_[I need you to come pick me up from my apartment right now. Please, Fuyumi.]_

Tossing his phone on the bed, Makoto starts yanking open dresser drawers and grabbing handfuls of clothes. He doesn’t bother keeping them folded. He stuffs his duffel bag full of clothes, zips it up, and reaches for his backpack. He packs his laptop along with his Happy Lights and his notebooks. Once both bags are ready, he hoists them off the bed and shoulders his way out of the bedroom and down the hall. He passes Sousuke and Haru, who are fighting in the living room and don’t even notice him pass.

“...abusive, and manipulating him.”

Makoto drops his bags at the door.

“And you’re a little prick who just wants us apart to get attention, so who’s the manipulator here?”

As he heads back to the bedroom, Makoto checks his phone.

“You _don’t make him happy anymore!_ ”

_[I’m on my way.]_

“ _You’re_ just as much to blame for...!”

Makoto slams the bedroom door shut behind him and digs around for his laundry bag, which he uses to carry more of his clothes and a few extra pairs of shoes. Once it’s packed, he carries it out of the bedroom. This time, as he passes the living room, one of them catches sight of him and the fighting immediately dies down. Makoto sets his bag down and slips on a pair of shoes.

“Makoto?”

Makoto glances over his shoulder at Sousuke, who is coming down the hall with a frown on his face. He looks away and grabs his coat from the hook.

“Where are you going? What’s going on?”

“I’m going to stay with Sato-san for a while,” Makoto mumbles. He zips up his jacket. “I can’t take it anymore.”

“...That’s...” Sousuke trails off. Makoto puts his backpack on, slings his laundry bag over his shoulder, and grabs his duffel bag. Sousuke continues, angry, “Okay, hold on a second! Let’s just talk for a second!”

“Yamazaki is right,” Haru suddenly butts in. Makoto pauses.

“Fuck _off_ ,” Sousuke snarls. “This has _nothing_ to do with you.”

Makoto grabs the door handle with renewed determination, throwing the door open and not caring as it slams into the wall. He struggles to get everything out of the apartment in one go, nearly managing to throw himself off the balcony with the force in which he pulls himself through the entryway. He hears Sousuke cursing behind him.

“Makoto, just wait. This is stupid!” Sousuke exclaims. Makoto storms down the staircase from the second floor, adjusting his grip on his bags as he goes. Just as he gets to the bottom step, Sato’s car rolls into the parking lot.

“Makoto!”

Makoto feels a hand on his shoulder and he turns around, eyes wide and flashing with anger. Haru stands before him with his jaw set.

“Don’t.”

Makoto frowns and pinches his lips together.

“Mako-kun, what’s going on?” Sato asks. Makoto turns to face Sato as she clambers out of her car and glances between the three of them.

“Can you open your trunk, please?” he asks softly. Sato fidgets, glancing to Sousuke. He stands by silently with his fists clenched at his sides. Nodding, Sato presses a button on her car keys and the trunk opens. Makoto stuffs his bags into Sato’s car.

“Fuyumi, stop. He’s... this isn’t right,” Sousuke tries. Sato looks away, crossing her arms and looking down at the ground.

“If Mako-kun wants to leave, he’s allowed to,” she mutters. Sousuke grits his teeth, but doesn’t say a word. Makoto slams the trunk shut once it’s packed, then finally turns to Sousuke and Haru.

“I told you I couldn’t take it anymore,” he says quietly. “I said it again and again, and you two didn’t listen.”

“I _was_ listening!” “I was trying to--” Sousuke and Haru begin at the same time.

“You _weren’t!_ ” Makoto snaps, gesturing wildly. The volume of his voice makes Sato jump and clap her hands over her mouth.

“Mako-kun--”

“ _Neither_ of you were listening,” Makoto repeats. He bites the inside of his cheek, looking away before he starts crying. “I have to get away from it.”

“So you’re just going to run away?” Sousuke interrogates, his voice low. “What about us? Are you breaking up with me?”

“I don’t know,” Makoto says honestly. When he turns to look at Sousuke, his hands are stuffed in his pockets and his face is carefully neutral. He sets his jaw, shrugging.

“...Just do what you want,” he says, but his voice is thick and trembling.

With his shoulders hunched, Sousuke turns on his heel and stalks back towards the apartment, not looking back. Makoto stares after him, but doesn’t move to follow. Instead, he starts towards the passenger door of Sato’s car, feeling empty. Before he can open the door, he feels a hand on his shoulder again. He wrenches himself away, whirling to face Haru.

“Stop,” Haru says. He tries to sound firm, but his voice is shaking. “Come back inside.”

“You know, I never asked you two to be best friends,” Makoto whispers. “All I wanted was for you guys to accept each other.”

Haru takes a breath, pauses, and glares down at the ground.

“Whatever. Just do what you want. Like Yamazaki said,” he spits. He turns and walks away towards the apartment while Makoto stands there with his fists clenched at his sides.

“Fine,” he hisses. Without another word, he opens the passenger door and flops down in Sato’s car. She silently gets in the driver’s seat and drives out of the parking lot.

“...Mako-kun?” Sato asks hesitantly.

“Not now.”

“Hey,” Sato snaps, furrowing her brow as her face becomes stony. “I went out of my way to pick you up. I think you could be a bit nicer to me.”

Makoto flinches and looks down at his lap.

“Sorry, Sato-san. I’m just frustrated. They really haven’t been listening to me, and all they do is fight, and--”

“You know, Sousuke-kun and Haru have been texting me nonstop,” Sato interrupts. Makoto blinks, taken aback. “They tell me all the time about how you blame them but then just shut down. I mean, like, those two are being shitty, but I think _you’re_ being a dick, too.”

“ _Me?_ ”

“Haru pretty much told me you’ve replaced him. Sousuke-kun feels ganged up on,” Sato lists. “And they’ve _both_ told me they’re sick of having all the responsibility on their shoulders!”

Makoto cringes and stares out the window, ashamed. He clenches his fists tightly in his lap and bites his lip as hard as he can stand.

“So it’s all my fault, after all?” he asks. Sato huffs a loud, exasperated sigh.

“No. Oh my god. All _three_ of you are being awful. It’s annoying. I’ve been trying to be quiet about it, but you guys are such babies. You can’t even handle _talking_ to each other. What are you, _elementary_ school kids?”

“No,” Makoto whispers. Without warning, tears start dripping down his face. He sniffles softly, prompting Sato to look at him. Her creased brow immediately relaxes.

“...Oh my gosh, Mako-kun, I am so sorry!” she says hurriedly. She reaches over to squeeze his hand. “I’m really sorry, I was just... I was really frustrated, and I took it out on you. I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay, I’m just...” Makoto trails off. His voice breaks and he moans as more tears dribble down his face. Sato lets out a sigh and pulls into the parking lot of a restaurant. Once she’s stopped, she turns off her car and rubs Makoto’s thigh.

“I really didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“It’s not that,” Makoto half-laughs, half-whimpers, swiping at his tears. “I’ve been doing a lot of it lately, anyway. It’s never been this bad, really...”

“This all must be really stressful for you,” Sato murmurs. Makoto nods and sniffs. Sato adds, “But you’re not the only one who feels really stressed out, you know.”

Makoto nods and swallows hard.

“I didn’t know they were talking to you. If I had known... this is such a huge mess, I’m sorry you got dragged into it.”

“Well... it happens,” Sato sighs. She grabs her steering wheel and taps on it distractedly with her thumbs. “And... you really don’t look so good.”

“Everyone has been saying that,” Makoto laughs humorlessly. “I look gross. I know.”

“Has this happened before?”

“Well... not really. I’ve never hated the weather this much before.”

“The weather?”

“Yeah. Like... it’s cloudy all the time, and it’s cold and wet. It’s... kinda embarrassing, actually. That I’m so bummed out by the weather,” Makoto giggles nervously. He frowns down at his lap, looking at his hands. “It must sound ridiculous.”

“Uh... no, that’s totally a thing,” Sato says. Makoto snaps his head up to look at her as she cocks an eyebrow. “Yeah. It’s called seasonal depression. It’s... well, it’s because of a lot of things, but without sunlight, you’re not getting Vitamin D. They actually have little lamps for those, called--”

“Happy Lights,” Makoto blurts. Sato grins.

“Yeah! Did you get one?”

“Two,” Makoto corrects, smiling slightly. “One from both Haru and Sousuke. For my birthday.”

“Yeah, a lot of people like them. Have they been helping you?”

“Well... I like them a lot, but... all the fighting at the apartment was... well, I really just... had to get away from it,” Makoto mumbles. “My dad said I need to separate myself from the things that make me feel bad. And you said you would be there for me if I ever needed you, so I can really never pay you back for--”

“Consider it a favor for a friend. Maybe you can buy me a pizza sometime. Or marathon Hana Yori Dango with me,” Sato teases. Makoto lets out a weak laugh. “And your dad was right. Forget about Haru and Sousuke-kun for now.”

“They’re home alone in that house,” Makoto moans. “I don’t know if I should leave them alone for a long time.”

“They’re adults,” Sato assures him. “Sousuke-kun is a brat, and Haru is... well, Haru. But maybe some alone time together to hash it out is just what they need. And if they come out with a few bloody noses, well... that’s their own damn fault. I feel bad for them, sure. Yeah, they have their own issues, but I don’t think it’s an excuse to treat you like garbage.”

Sato shifts her car into reverse and pulls out of her parking space.

“Your depression isn’t an excuse to treat them like garbage, either. You guys should have an apology party. Can I bake a ‘Sorry’ cake?”

“I don’t think a cake will make up for everything. _Definitely_ not a cake. Besides, Haru and Sousuke don’t really like sweets.”

“Then a ‘Sorry’ casserole. I don’t know! But you guys should sit down and talk it out.”

“I’ve been trying to do that!” Makoto exclaims. Sato gives him a look.

“Mako-kun. No offense, but you’re kind of a pushover. Also… Sousuke-kun said that you shut down when it comes to the fighting. Am I wrong?”

“...No,” Makoto mutters. He looks out his window at the dark grey sky.

“Give it time,” Sato soothes. “In the meantime, we’re going to work on your body.”

“My body?” Makoto half-laughs, half-scoffs. He looks down at himself, noting how baggy his jeans look and how his shirt drapes off of him like a rag. “Sousuke already told me over and over that I need to exercise, so--”

“I’m not talking about exercise,” Sato interrupts. “I’m talking about self care. Little things. Exercise can wait until you feel good enough to do it. And if all that doesn’t work, you can talk to a counselor.”

“I really don’t think we should go that far,” Makoto says, holding up his hands in surrender and smiling apologetically. “That sort of thing is for people who are really suffering.”

“You _are_ suffering,” Sato counters. “You’re suffering a lot.”

“Other people have it worse.”

“Depression doesn’t care what your life story is!” Sato exclaims. Makoto, startled by her outburst, wrings his hands and shuts his mouth. Sato lets out a sigh and puts a little smile on her face. “Hey, can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course.”

“My grandpa had depression,” she admits. “Not just seasonal, either. All year. And he had a really comfortable life, too. He had a wife, and two dogs, and a good job. He had my mom and me. He had everything he wanted.”

Sato takes a shivering breath and gives a little shrug.

“He committed suicide the summer before I went to college. We never knew that he was suffering,” Sato says somberly. Makoto’s lips part as he stares at his friend. She pinches her lips tightly together and shakes her head. “And… okay, our relationship with him wasn’t all that great, but we never wanted him to _die_.”

Sato goes silent as Makoto continues to stare at her, speechless. Finally, she cracks a smile and glances at Makoto.

“Sorry, did I say too much? I know it’s kinda weird for me to get so serious.”

“N-No! I’m just... shocked.”

“Well, like I said, I wasn’t very close to my grandpa. My mom was way more upset than I was. But still… it scared me. And when I hear ‘depression’, I think of that. Sorry if I’m prying, but it means a lot to me. I don’t even want to think about what could happen if depression swallows you up, like it did to my grandpa.”

“I’ve never thought about… well… I’ve never thought about _dying_ or anything,” Makoto says hesitantly. The word sounds too harsh on his tongue. He swallows. “It’s just, my body isn’t doing what I want it to do. It’s not that I can’t. My mind doesn’t want me to.”

“And that’s how it starts. So I’m saying that we tackle it now, before it swallows you up. And our first step is to get you some hot cocoa,” Sato announces just as she pulls into the parking lot of her apartment. She puts her car in park and gives Makoto a big smile. “I’m here for you. I want to help you get through this.”

As Sato throws open her car door and climbs out, Makoto fumbles to unbuckle his seat belt and manages to fight his way out of the car. He joins Sato, who struggles to haul his stuffed laundry bag out of the trunk.

“Sato-san, this is all so... are you sure I’m not imposing?”

“I’m sure,” Sato assures him. She takes a breath, pauses, and turns to look at Makoto. “When you first talked to me in that intro to anatomy class, I was going through a tough time, myself. I felt like a failure, ‘cuz I gave up on gender studies. But if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have met you or Sousuke-kun. I meant it when I said that I love you guys. I would do anything for you two.”

She takes a breath, looks Makoto square in the eye, and repeats herself;

“ _Anything_.”

“Somehow I don’t think we deserve it,” Makoto laughs, scratching his cheek. Sato manages to lug his laundry bag out of her trunk and stumbles with it. Makoto is quick to relieve her of the bag, and lets her take his backpack instead.

“Thanks,” Sato huffs. She slings his backpack over her shoulder and reaches for the last bag. “Listen, Mako-kun. It’s not about whether or not you deserve it. Well, you do deserve it, but that’s beside the point. Point is, I care about you. And I’m not going to sit back and watch you fall apart. I’m going to make this the best vacation away from Sousuke-kun and Haru ever.”

Makoto bursts into laughter and almost feels the dust being shaken from his heart. With a nod, he smiles.

“Sounds like a plan.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to [Chris](http://sometimes-morgan-freeman.tumblr.com), and my dear friends [Diana](http://coronaampora.tumblr.com) and [Nicole](http://syniio.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](http://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](http://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](http://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](http://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	47. Chapter 47

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll be slowly working our way back up to a somewhat regular update time. I'm afraid, however, that it may take some time before I can handle 1 update every two days. This semester I have 16 credit hours, 4 of which are an insanely difficult anatomy course that requires rigorous study and focus. On top of that, I am required to do 60 hours of volunteer work for a pre-internship course--I will be volunteering at a local hospice, which will obviously be a mental strain. As much as I'd love to drop everything and make FEFSKY my #1 priority, I cannot do such a thing when my career and my finances are on the line. Please continue to read and be patient with me as I fight my way through this semester!

Sousuke and Haru don’t call for several days. A tiny part of Makoto is upset that they haven’t even tried communicating with him, even though _he_ left in the first place. He reminds himself that he wants this, to be away from the sources of his depressive downswing, but it’s still difficult to accept.

Sato’s place is constantly buzzing with positive energy. The other girls she lives with are more than happy to have a boy among them (Sato claims it’s because he’s cute), and make sure he’s comfortable in his temporary home. He sleeps in Sato’s room on a fluffy futon she set up for him. At night, her room is illuminated by decorative string lights hung over her bed. At first, it’s hard for Makoto to sleep with them on, but before long, he welcomes the dim glow.

He’s spoiled thoroughly. Sato doesn’t let him sleep in too late, and makes him get up every day at an acceptable time. She lets him use her ‘natural oils’ body wash and face cleaner, which clears up the acne on his face and chest. Day by day, his skin improves and the light slowly returns to his eyes. He even puts on a few pounds.

“I think I should call them,” he says on a rainy Thursday. He’s in a comfy sweater and sweatpants, with a cup of hot chocolate still steaming on the side table. Sato is beside him, her bare toes buried under his thigh as they play Mario Kart on Sato’s Wii. One of her roommates sits nearby with a bottle of cheap beer in one hand and a textbook in the other.

“Why?” Sato asks, giving Makoto a look. “This is your time away from them.”

“No, I mean... I guess I just want to make sure they know I’m okay. And I want to make sure they’re okay, too,” Makoto explains. He jerks his controller as his car drives straight off a bridge. He’s been in last place the whole race, while Sato sits comfortably in first.

“Don’t you have a little brother and sister?” Sato teases as Makoto finally crosses the finish line.

“I’m used to playing badly on purpose so they win!” Makoto whimpers. Sato rolls her eyes and burrows her toes even more under his thigh, making him jolt and lean away.

“That’s a big fat lie,” she singsongs. “Stop moving! My toes are cold!”

Makoto whines and shifts so he’s cornered against the armrest, his knees pulled up to his chest. Sato just laughs, throws her controller on the coffee table along with the rest of the junk, and gets up to stretch.

“I feel like doin’ something. Do you wanna do something?” she asks. “Mimi-chan?”

“Can’t. I gotta study,” Mimi says, waving her hand. Sato purses her lips at her.

“With beer?”

“Booze helps me concentrate, duh.”

“Whatever. Mako-kun, let’s go do something,” Sato says, she reaches down to grab Makoto’s hands, pulling him off the couch even as he protests. “Don’t whine at me.”

“But it’s warm in here,” Makoto pouts. “And it’s cold out there.”

“You know what else is warm? The bookstore. Feel like sniffing some new books?” Sato asks. Mimi snorts from the armchair.

“...Well...” Makoto sighs. He looks up at the ceiling. “Okay, I guess.”

“Sweet! Okay, let me get ready real quick. It’ll only take, like, two minutes.”

“That’s Sato-speak for twenty minutes,” Mimi snarks, laughing behind her beer bottle. Sato sticks her tongue out at her before leaving the room, leaving Makoto to flop back down on the couch and curl up against the armrest.

As he sits there, he shuts his eyes and focuses on his thoughts. On the second day of ‘recovery’, Sato had taught him to visualize his depression as a small creature inside of him. He visualizes his depression as a small, dark ball of fur. In his head, it sits shivering in the corner, cowering from him until he stoops down to scoop it up. He cradles it close, soothing it.

His thoughts are interrupted by his phone going off in between the couch cushions. Makoto rummages for it and pulls it out, expecting to see Sousuke or Haru’s name on the screen. However, he’s surprised to find that it’s Rin.

“Rin?” Makoto asks as soon as he brings his phone to his ear. Rin lets out an annoyed sigh in his ear.

_“Well, thank god someone decided to pick up their damn phone. Honestly. I’ve been trying to call Haru all day, no answer. I try to call Sousuke, no answer. So I’m assuming one of those idiots is with you. Tell whoever is with you that they’re an asshole.”_

“Actually... neither of them are here,” Makoto laughs a bit sheepishly.

_“Haaah?”_

“Well... I’m at a friend’s house right now. Are you in town or something?”

_“Yeah, I’m in Tokyo. I’m sitting in some Thai restaurant. I just flew in about an hour ago. I wanted to surprise you guys, but nobody answered the door at your apartment. And Haru’s apartment is shut down, do you know anything about that?!”_

“It’s a long story,” Makoto sighs. “Um... listen, me and my friend are going to a bookstore today. Do you want us to pick you up?”

_“Ugh. God yes. I was about to give up and take the next flight to Iwatobi. You guys are lucky Lori and Russell pay for my plane tickets to come up here, or you’d never see m--”_

“We’ll come get you, I promise,” Makoto soothes hurriedly. “Where are you?”

_“Some place called Thai Palace. It’s close to your campus, I think.”_

“I know where that is. We’ll be there soon, okay?”

_“Gotcha. Later.”_

\---

“Makoto! Over here!”

As Makoto climbs out of Sato’s car, Rin emerges from the restaurant, waving his hands. Sato sucks in a huge breath as she gets out of the car as well, gripping the top of her door.

“I saw you in a commercial once!” she blurts as Rin comes closer. She grimaces as he laughs.

“Yeah? Which one?”

“...The... one for ramen.”

“Hey, Rin,” Makoto says. He comes around the front of the car to greet Rin. He expects a fist bump, but gets a bear hug instead.

“Long time no see! I was getting lonely down there all by myself,” he teases. Nodding to Sato, he shoves his hands in the pockets of his coat. “Who’s this?”

“This is Sato-san. Haru has told you about her, I think.”

“Hey. Sato Fuyumi,” Sato introduces. She gives a little bow and Rin nods to her, grinning.

“Matsuoka Rin,” he answers. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Well... as much as Haru has told me, anyway.”

“Ah, can we get in the car? It’s cold,” Makoto complains, shivering and wrapping his arms around himself. Rin laughs.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll take the back.”

The three of them clamber back into the car and Sato drives off towards the bookstore, glancing at Rin through the rearview mirror every once and a while.

“I didn’t know you were coming to visit, Rin,” Makoto comments. “Did you tell anyone?”

“Nah. I wanted it to be like... an early Christmas surprise. They’re _way_ more excited about Christmas in Australia. My friends over there want me to come to their Christmas party, so I thought now would be a good time to pay a visit. But those dumbasses Haru and Sousuke, man, I can’t believe they didn’t even pick up their phones. What did you do, Makoto? Break up with them and kick them out of the house?”

“Dude,” Sato groans. Makoto’s grin remains frozen on his face as he stares straight ahead of him. He can feel the heat of Rin’s stare from the backseat.

“Well, that isn’t exactly--”

“What the _hell_ happened?!” Rin blurts, suddenly lurching forward and startling Makoto as his head pops up between the front seats. Sato yelps and swerves a little, barely missing a fire hydrant. Rin stares hard at Makoto. “Seriously. What happened?”

“J-Just...! Okay, things got a little crazy. Haru’s been... um, well, he’s been living with me and Sousuke,” Makoto says tentatively. Rin squints at him.

“What the fuck?”

“His apartment flooded because his pipes froze and burst, and... and there was black mold in the walls, because there was too much water in the pipes, and it was causing the pipes--” Makoto tries. Rin scoffs loudly, waving his hand.

“Forget that! Haru has been _living_ with you? What about Sousuke?”

“It was a disaster,” is all Makoto says. Rin seems to understand as he flops into the backseat. He kicks Makoto’s seat, making him jolt.

“Maaaan. You guys are hopeless. Is that why I can’t reach anyone? Sousuke and Haru are off having a pity party somewhere? And you! You’re off... where are we going, the bookstore? Are you going to try and get high off the book smell or something?”

“Riiin,” Makoto moans. Sato sighs, eyeing Rin through the rearview mirror again.

“Hey, they’re all going through a rough time. I’m all about teasing, but pull back a little,” she scolds. Makoto watches as Rin’s eyebrows pop up—he seems impressed.

“Alright, sorry,” he says, his voice significantly softer. Crossing his arms, he shrugs his shoulders. “So? What happened, really? Did you and Sousuke break up?”

“I...” Makoto trails off. He gestures helplessly and tucks his hands under his armpits, shaking his head. When he feels a hand on his shoulder, he looks to see Rin leaning in close with a deep frown on his face.

“Makoto. Are you okay?”

“Nothing’s okay,” Makoto croaks. He tries to put on his usual smile, but even his cheeks feel too weak to do much more than a little twitch of his lips. “I think it’s over for real this time. And I don’t know what to do, I guess. I’ve been with him so long, losing him feels like...”

He holds out a hand, trying to find the words for his pain, but he can’t. He folds it back under his arm and pinches his lips together.

“And with Haru...” he begins. He chokes out a laugh and puts his head down to pinch the bridge of his nose. “After this, I don’t really… know what will happen.”

“That bad, huh?” Rin whistles. He leans his head against the passenger seat. “You know, I warned you guys this kind of shit would happen. I warned you, if you didn’t fix this with Haru, it was going to explode in your fa--”

“I know! I know you warned me,” Makoto snaps. He reels back the hostility as soon as it flares, forcing himself to swallow his anger. Rin just holds up his hands, eyebrows raised. Makoto sighs, “And I really wish I had thought about it more. I really messed up. This is all my fault.”

“Blaming only yourself isn’t going to help anyone,” Sato points out.

“But it _is_ my fault,” Makoto insists. He slumps in his seat and shakes his head. “And I was too stupid to see it.”

“Look, nobody’s perfect,” Sato says. Rin snorts and grabs Makoto’s shoulder, shaking slightly.

“Not even the gem of the Iwatobi swim club,” he says. Makoto smiles ever so slightly, reaching up and back to squeeze Rin’s hand.

“I wasn’t a gem.”

“Everyone thought you were an angel. C’mon. Everyone wanted to be you or be _with_ you,” Rin says. Makoto flushes and squirms, self conscious.

“That’s... embarrassing. And even if that’s true, it isn’t doing anything to help the situation now!”

“Well, if I know Sousuke at all, he’s been putting you on a pedestal. If he feels like he can’t reach you, he gets all pissy,” Rin explains. “’Cuz he’s scared.”

“I knew he was scared,” Makoto admits. “Haru doesn’t like the idea of us together.”

“Well, Haru can fuck off. He’s always been like that. He just hates anything that will change the status quo. Like, don’t you remember the fit he threw when we were third years? He had a fight with you then, too. Honestly. You know he acts like it's the end of the world if something changes. That’s just how he’s wired.”

“That’s true,” Makoto sighs. “What helped him last time...?”

“I’m not taking anyone on a soul-awakening field trip again,” Rin deadpans. Sato lets out a somewhat confused laugh while Makoto groans.

“I can’t _afford_ to take him to another country, Rin.”

“Is this some sort of inside joke?” Sato asks, still grinning. She perks up as realization hits her. “Oh, is this about that _thing?_ ”

“Yeah. But it’s hardly an inside joke. One time Haru got pissed at the world, I took him to Australia, and showed him the light.”

“Wow. I thought it sounded extreme already, but when you say it, it’s kinda hilarious.”

“That’s just how he is,” Rin sighs. “He’s a weird guy, but I can’t imagine life without him.”

“Yeah,” Makoto agrees sullenly. “I guess I haven’t been caring about our friendship as much as I should. When Sousuke came in, I--”

“Yeah, yeah I get it. Sousuke waltzes in and sweeps up everything that isn’t nailed down with him.”

“Like a hurricane,” Sato adds. Rin laughs and reaches out to smack Sato’s shoulder.

“And Haru’s a mountain,” he jokes.

“What am I?” Makoto asks hesitantly.

“A cupcake caught in the crossfire.”

Rin and Sato roar with laughter as Makoto flushes red. But his friends’ laughter weaken him, and soon he joins them in their giggles. They laugh the rest of the way to the bookstore, Rin and Sato making as many ridiculous metaphors for the fight as they can. By the time they find a parking spot outside the mall, they’re both wiping away the tears of laughter in their eyes.

“Oh man. You’re cool,” Rin comments. “Wanna exchange emails?”

“Definitely.”

While Sato and Rin fawn over each other like children, Makoto climbs out of the car so he can stretch his legs. Here in the busier part of the city, the slush and the ice isn’t quite so prominent. Above, the clouds are still a sickly grey, but the streets are lively and there is a plethora of sights and smells and sounds that start to drag Makoto out of his funk.

When Sato and Rin get out of the car, they all head into the mall, which is a great, tall building that probably takes up a city block. Inside, everything is shimmery and decorated for Christmas already, even though December has barely started.

“Damn it. I thought I’d be able to get away from the Christmas crap for a while,” Rin laments. Sato laughs, gesturing wide.

“Yep. Tokyo is pretty excited about Christmas, too.”

“It’s giving me a headache.”

Makoto meanders a little bit behind Sato and Rin. He strips out of his coat after about five minutes of walking in the sweltering heat, wiping the sweat from under his eyes. Sighing, he hugs his coat close to his body.

“Mako-kun, c’mon!”

He looks up at Sato and Rin, who have stopped to face him. The sight of his friends standing there waiting for him and smiling makes him feel a weird mix of embarrassed and happy. Trotting forward, Makoto offers them a weak smile.

“Sorry.”

“I don’t want to risk losing you in this mall,” Sato explains. She hooks her arm with Makoto’s, pulling him close and grinning wide. “Now you’re anchored.”

Overwhelmed with the affection and complete lack of negativity, Makoto resists the urge to squirm. Without warning, Rin smacks him on the shoulder.

“It’ll blow over. People fight all the time. It’s part of being, you know, a _person_.”

“Yeah, but--”

“Me and Sousuke fight all the time,” Rin interrupts. He unzips his coat but leaves it on, then shoves his hands in his pockets and purses his lips. “He can be an ass. I know that from experience. Well... I guess saying that doesn’t help much in your case. But you’re dating him, so obviously you know that he can be stubborn as hell. But he’s stubborn in a good way, too. I don’t think he’d let go of a relationship so easily.”

“I know that. But _he_ kept asking for second chances,” Makoto groans. “And _he_ was the one who was keeping the relationship together, and he did try his hardest, and... I didn’t... really appreciate it, I don’t think.”

Makoto’s lips form a thin line as he looks down at the ground ahead of him.

“I wish I could’ve seen these things sooner.”

“Ugh. Relationships are stressful,” Sato suddenly comments, wrinkling her nose. Makoto glances at her.

“Well, they’re not _supposed_ to be,” Makoto laughs grimly.

“ _Still_. I don’t want one.”

“I feel the same way. For now, anyway,” Rin agrees. “I do want a real relationship someday. No kids, though.”

“That’s, like, the opposite of what I want. I don’t want a relationship but I want kids.”

The subject change is unexpected but not at all unpleasant. Makoto stays quiet while Rin and Sato chatter about their life goals, enjoying the time that he doesn’t have to explain his misery to two of his happiest friends. It’s refreshing.

“What is your sexuality, Rin? If you’re comfortable telling me, that is,” Sato asks. Rin purses his lips and shrugs.

“Uh... whoever’s hot? Everyone? I dunno.”

“There’s a name for th--”

“Save it,” Rin interrupts. He flashes Sato a shark-tooth grin. “I’ve heard you’re a walking Google search. I don’t care what the name of it is. Don’t need a label.”

Sato puffs up her cheeks, looking utterly flabbergasted. She flaps her lips a little, shuts them, then looks down at the floor like her brain short-circuited. Makoto giggles.

“Rin, I think you broke Sato-san.”

“I am _not_ a walking Google search!” she snaps, turning red in the face. Rin barks out a laugh as Sato’s face begins to resemble the color of a tomato.

“I’ve never seen you blush before,” Makoto points out.

“I don’t need a label, I don’t like labels. I don’t like stuff that tries to keep me in a box. And I also don’t want you looking at me and comparing me to some word I’ve never heard before,” Rin mutters, waving his hand dismissively. “Sorry.”

“I guess that’s... okay,” Sato says, sounding strained. Makoto stares at her, surprised that someone like her can look so completely lost.

“But thank you,” Rin murmurs, suddenly sincere. “I get that you like to help people. So thanks, but I’m pretty much at peace with myself.”

Sato smiles and nods.

“That’s good. I’m glad to hear that. And I’m sorry, too. I can be kind of a know-it-all.”

Rin chuckles and grins, shrugging his shoulders.

“That’s not really a bad thing.”

They arrive at the bookstore, where Rin spots a rack full of the latest sports magazines and makes a beeline towards it. Sato, meanwhile, eyes a big sale on romance novels. She inches towards them, seemingly unaware that Makoto is still attached to her arm.

“I thought you didn’t like relationships,” Makoto comments. Sato gives him a look as she picks up a book with a shirtless man on the cover.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t like a good, old fashioned trashy sex scene. C’mon, Mako-kun. I eat this crap up,” she says. She releases Makoto’s arm so she can flip through the book, biting her lip as she does. “Ever sit down to one of these with a bottle of wine? Maybe a candle lit?”

“U-Um...”

“I’m just teasing!” Sato giggles. She continues flipping through the book, but pauses for a moment and looks back at Makoto. “So... how are you feeling? Better?”

“Well... sorta,” Makoto mumbles. Sato frowns.

“Only sorta?”

“I really appreciate everything, Sato-san. I really, really do. And everything you’ve done this week has helped a little. But...”

“You still feel depressed,” Sato concludes. Makoto gives a slow nod of his head.

“Sometimes I feel okay, but it comes and goes.”

“Do you think you’ll feel better if you make up with Sousuke?”

“Part of me,” Makoto answers slowly. He hugs his coat closer to his stomach and scuffs his foot. “My... my heart tells me that if I’m with him again, everything will be okay. But my mind tells me that it’ll only be a small help. Like a band-aid or something.”

“That’s only if the problem with Haru is solved, and your relationship is healthy again,” Sato points out. “Like... it really won’t help if you get back together with him and he’s still fighting with your friend. You’ll just want to leave again.”

“You’re right. I can’t help but miss him, though. I miss Haru, too. I feel like I’m missing a big chunk of... me.”

“Oh, I’ve read that one. The sex scenes are pretty bad and the plot’s a joke. I wouldn’t get it.”

Makoto and Sato look up in surprise at Rin, who has just come to the sales table. He’s pointing at the book in Sato’s hand. Slowly, he seems to realize what he’s doing and his face immediately turns beet red as his pointing finger curls up.

“Uhhh...”

“Rin! You read trashy romance novels, too?!” Sato squeals. Rin stiffens.

“N- _No_ , I just read that coinci--”

“Oh my god. What’s your favorite type? Fantasy? Vanilla? BDSM? Oh! Do you like the gay ones? I haven’t read them, but--”

“ _STOP_.”

Makoto smiles and laughs, his shoulders shaking as he tries to keep himself relatively quiet in the bookstore. When he recovers enough to see straight, both Rin and Sato are staring at him, both with grins on their faces.

“Let’s find the most perfect, disgusting, raunchy romance novel for _you_ , Mako-kun,” Sato says, suddenly rolling up her sleeves to search through the pile of erotica on the table. Rin stands and watches her search for a while before groaning, stripping off his jacket, and rolling up his own sleeves.

“I... ah, jeez. I already know the perfect one,” Rin says, his cheekbones still red. “Look for one called _Fleshly Temptations_.”

“Roger!”

“W-Wait, what?!” Makoto half-yelps, flailing as Rin and Sato rifle through the mountain of books. He flushes to the tips of his ears as other people start to turn and stare at the spectacle. Just as Makoto is thinking about digging a hole and burying himself in it, Rin lets out a yell of triumph and yanks out a single novel. From its thickness, it looks to be about three hundred pages—no doubt filled with erotica. The cover even features torso shots of two muscular-looking men with their fingers hooked in each other’s belt loops.

Makoto slaps his coat over his burning face and tries not to scream while Sato snatches the book out of Rin’s hand and flips it over.

“’Hayashi Shiro, a 23-year-old graduate student in med school, meets Mori Daichi, his _sexy_ anatomy professor, and--” Makoto starts to turn and try to walk away, but Sato grabs him by the back of the shirt and holds fast as she continues to read, “—quickly falls victim to the mature man’s _allure_. In the midst of _steamy_ kisses after class and wild, _passionate_ love-making on the teacher’s desk, Shiro--” Rin tries to turn to walk away (he’s laughing so hard he can’t make any noise), but Makoto grabs hold of the hem of his shirt and refuses to let go, “—and Daichi find love in the most _unexpected_ of places. This _spine-tingling_ romance will surely tickle _more_ than just your funny bone.’ Aww, that’s cute. A little anatomy pun there. Rin, you liked this book?”

“Ahaha...ha...uh... well, I’ve got a thing for mature—wait, why the hell do you care? This is for Makoto,” Rin snaps. He yanks the book out of Sato’s hands and places it in Makoto’s, who promptly drops it like he’s been burned.

“I can’t read something like _that!_ ” he squeals. Sato stoops down to pick it up.

“Sounds hot. I’ve always had fantasies about a secret affair with a hot professor,” she says. Makoto groans and covers his face with his coat again. “I’m getting this for you, Mako-kun.”

“I don’t want it!” he protests. Rin slings an arm around his shoulder.

“C’mon, man. Relax. I was told that you have a bit of a kinky side, so there’s no way you can pass this up.”

“Sousuke told you about that?!” Makoto squeaks. Rin’s face splits into a huge Cheshire grin, his sharp teeth glinting.

“Nah. You told me just now.”

Sato and Rin laugh as Makoto prays to be struck by lightning. As he pouts, he eyes the book in Sato’s hand (he's much more curious than he should be) and finally lets out a sigh.

“...Oh, alright,” he admits defeat, and Sato lets out a cheer of triumph.

“We’re getting a bottle of wine to celebrate!” she announces, hooking her arm on Makoto’s and parading him to the checkout counter. He sheepishly tries to hide his face as the completely disinterested cashier rings up the book.

As he’s dragged out of the store with his little plastic bookbag in hand and his friends on either side of him, Makoto lets out a sigh and smiles. His chest aches deep down, but he feels surrounded by warmth. And though his heart is still heavy, some of that unbearable weight is being shouldered by the people beside him.

For now, it’s all he needs.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friends [Diana](http://coronaampora.tumblr.com) and [Nicole](http://syniio.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](http://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](http://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](http://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](http://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	48. Chapter 48

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STILL BUSY. STILL CRANKING THESE CHAPTERS OUT. SLOWLY. Sorry for the wait!!!

Rin spends the rest of the day with Sato and Makoto, telling stories about Australia and acting smooth with Sato’s roommates (he gets flustered when Mimi blows him a kiss, ruining his façade). When Rin talks, Makoto feels as though his voice is healing him. He nearly brings himself to tears when he thinks about how Rin brings people together and anchors them firmly to the ground. It takes all of his effort not to just cling to Rin for the rest of the day.

Eventually, Sousuke responds to Rin’s calls and, after stepping outside for a few minutes, he returns with a somber look on his face. The frown melts into an apologetic smile when he catches Makoto’s eyes in the entryway.

“Is he okay?” Makoto asks right off the bat, wringing his hands. Rin pauses and shrugs.

“Why should I tell you? That’s for you to figure out. I’m not gonna play messenger between two idiots, and I’m not going to hold your hand through this,” Rin says. He puts his hands on his hips and furrows his brow, staring Makoto down. He looks like Samezuka’s captain all over again when he stands like this, and Makoto naturally shrinks back a little in submission.

“I don’t really want to face him,” he admits sheepishly. Rin’s scowl softens and he smiles gently.

“I know. But if you want things to change, you need to _make_ it change,” Rin says. He takes a breath and lets out an awkward laugh. “I’m not really a pep talk kinda guy for personal issues, but... well, you were captain of the swim team. You know how to take charge and make things work, even when everything keeps trying to hold you back. Use that. I know you have it in you.”

Rin shrugs helplessly.

“Does that make sense? I don’t know, usually I just let the magic field trip do the talking. Do you _really_ need me to take someone to Australia? I’ll do it. I’ll take Sousuke this time around if you want.”

Makoto’s frown quickly turns into a smile as he laughs, his tensed shoulders relaxing and his fists unclenching. He shakes his head.

“No, I don’t think anyone needs a field trip. Just having you around helps. It’s great to have you here, and I’m sorry you had to come home to this… mess, but I’m really thankful that you’re here. We all really miss you when you’re away, even though we don’t really show it.”

“...Oh,” Rin says. He pinches his lips together, takes a breath, then abruptly throws his arms around Makoto’s neck and hugs the life out of him. Surprised, Makoto tentatively hugs him back, even lifting him a little off his feet. As soon as it begins, it ends, and Rin tears himself away. He sniffles and turns his head to the side, hastily scrubbing at his eyes.

“Rin?” Makoto asks softly.

“Don’t tell anyone I just did that,” he mutters. He slaps his reddened cheeks and clears his throat before sticking out his fist. Makoto awkwardly bumps it. Rin just sniffs loudly, averting his eyes and looking grumpy. “You have to warn a guy before you say something like that. Jeez.”

“Sorry,” Makoto apologizes, smiling a little. He fidgets, embarrassed. “Um...”

“Look, I’d love to stay, but Sousuke expects me at his apartment in a bit. Are you going to be okay here?”

“I guess...” Makoto trails off. He feels selfish for wanting to keep Rin around to keep his mind off of  his problems, but he’s sure Rin wants to visit everyone else. He takes a breath and nods. “Yeah, alright. But... can you make sure he’s doing okay? And Haru, too. I know I have to face the problem, but I’m scared that they’re not... well, I’m nervous that...”

“I’ll make sure they’re taking care of themselves,” Rin assures him, smiling slightly. “But I’m not letting you off the hook either. Eat some fucking protein. Go to the gym. Shape up. Love yourself, man.”

He punches Makoto very lightly in the stomach, making him smile.

“I’ll do my best.”

“Good.”

\---

On Sunday afternoon, Makoto’s curled up against the armrest of the couch, his knees drawn up close to his body and his nose buried in the romance novel Sato bought for him. The big, soft sweater he’s wearing doesn’t do much to help the burn on his body as he flips the page with trembling fingertips. With every moment that he reads, more and more warm pressure drops into the bottom of his stomach. But he’s not hard. Not yet.

Porn has never been on the list of Makoto’s favorite things. It’s too rough, too artificial, and he just can’t envision himself in any position when he watches it. Reading it has a much greater effect on him, especially since he hasn’t had sex in weeks. There have been a couple shameful times when he has had no choice but to lock himself in the bathroom to take care of things. His body misses Sousuke just as much as his heart, and he has a feeling Sato knows. At least she seems to accept that, or is at the very least willing to ignore it.

Makoto is so distracted by his book that he doesn’t notice Sato creeping up behind him until she smacks her hands down on his shoulders, making him jump and let out a shrill scream. Out of reflex, he throws the book away from him. It lands on the floor with the cover up. He grimaces.

“Ooh,” Sato coos, pinching Makoto’s shoulders. “Whatcha readin’?”

“Nothing!” Makoto squeaks even as Sato goes to pick up the book.

“Are you liking it so far, Mako-kun?”

“I...” he trails off, flushing red and avoiding Sato’s gaze at all costs. “Well... it’s... not _bad_... or anything like that, just...”

“You love it!”

“That’s not what I said at all!” Makoto cries, his voice trailing off into a whimper. Sato just giggles and hands the book back to him.

“Sorry I made you lose your place,” she teases. Makoto’s blush spreads to his ears and he clears his throat, holding the book face-down in his lap.

“It’s okay, Sato-san. I was thinking I would take a break, anyway. I think I might take a nap.”

“Still feeling tired?” Sato asks. She comes to the couch and flops down on it, bumping her knee up against Makoto’s thigh as she leans an elbow on the back of the couch. “I can make you some coffee if you want.”

“Sato-san, I appreciate it, but no thank you,” Makoto says politely. He offers her a small smile, but frowns down at his lap. “I think... I think I should go home soon. I can’t run away forever.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Sato agrees. She stops and lets out a small laugh, “Well, I don’t mean that in a mean way. I meant that it’s probably a good idea to try and settle things once and for all.”

“I know. Thank you,” Makoto says. He takes a deep breath and looks up at the ceiling, his hands folded in his lap. “I still don’t know how to face them, but I don’t think I have a choice. I can’t hide here reading books for the rest of my life.”

“I agree. And I think--”

The doorbell rings, interrupting Sato. She gives Makoto a smile that promises that they’ll talk soon, pats him on the leg, and stands to answer the door. As she leaves, Makoto sighs and strokes his temples, trying to figure out a good way to go back home without making a complete idiot of himself.

However, he isn’t given much time to think as he hears Sato yell from the entryway,

“Oh my _god_ , what _happened?!_ ”

The responding voice is quiet, too quiet for Makoto to make out the words, but he recognizes the deep tone and perpetual irritation. Makoto leaps to his feet with energy he didn’t know he had and rushes out of the living room to the front door, his heart leaping into his throat.

Sure enough, Sousuke stands in the doorway with a tired look on his face and a bouquet of flowers in hand. The moment he sees Makoto, he locks up, hiding the flowers behind his leg. The tops of his cheekbones flush as he averts his eyes and glares at the doorframe.

But Makoto isn’t at all focused on any of these things. Instead, his eyes zero in on Sousuke’s right arm, which is tucked against his body in a dark blue sling. Panic bubbles in Makoto throat, spilling over without a second thought.

“What did you _do?_ ” he asks. His voice comes out way too sharply, like venom, and Sousuke visibly cringes. Makoto immediately wants to backtrack, but Sousuke doesn’t give him the chance.

“I came here because I want to talk to you about us. Not... this,” Sousuke says, nodding to his arm. He pauses. “But... uh, I... well...”

Sousuke pinches his lips together, his face contorted in apparent humiliation. Makoto glances at Sato, who just shrugs.

“I... got drunk and slipped on some ice, and kinda fucked up my shoulder. A little bit. Again,” Sousuke mutters. Makoto’s heart drops to his stomach.

“What does that mean? You tore something again?” Makoto fires off, desperation in his voice. Sousuke looks strained, a little annoyed, but Makoto doesn’t back down.

“It’s fine. Just... sore. I had x-rays and an MRI done. They don’t think anything happened. The sling is just to keep it stable. But like I said, that’s not the _point_ ,” Sousuke stresses. He sets his jaw. “I want to talk to you. I _need_ to.”

“Well... what is there to say?” Makoto asks very quietly. “I mean, other than what we all have been saying since this all started? That we need to work through this, or set differences aside? I’m sorry, Sousuke, but... I don’t think we can talk about ‘us’ until things change. Or we’ll be right back where we started.”

Makoto glances at Sato for guidance, and she gives a tiny nod of approval. It eases Makoto’s doubts. He steels himself as Sousuke frowns deeply and taps the flowers in his hand against his thigh. Makoto glances down at them and Sousuke clears his throat, tucking the flowers behind his leg once more.

“Did you bring those for me?” Makoto asks. Sousuke grimaces, the blush on his cheekbones deepening.

“It felt like a good idea at the time,” he grumbles. “I can give them to Fuyumi, if you don’t want them. I mean, she did give you a place to stay.”

He turns his attention to Sato. Although the frown is still on his face, his eyes are soft and kind.

“Thanks, by the way.”

Sato crosses her arms and shrugs, smiling a little.

“I couldn’t just let him wander off,” she says. She turns to Makoto, brows creased. “Do you want to speak privately?”

“I... don’t know.”

Makoto rubs his arm, not looking Sousuke in the eye.

“Things are different now,” Sousuke says hurriedly. “Stuff happened while you were gone. Good stuff, I promise. If you’d just let me explain, I’ll tell you. We can go get dinner or something.”

“I’d rather get coffee,” Makoto mumbles. He scratches his cheek and puts on a strained smile. “I’m not that hungry.”

Sousuke, sensing that he’s on very thin ice, takes a deep breath and nods, then glances down at the flowers in his hand and lets out a forced snort.

“Uh... these seem real stupid, now that I have them.”

“I love flowers,” Sato pipes in. Makoto laughs, somewhat awkwardly, and gestures to Sato.

“She can have them.”

After the initial awkwardness has passed, Makoto and Sousuke leave Sato’s house and climb into his car. Makoto half expects to see Haru, but no one else is in the car with them. He frowns as he buckles up and looks out the window. The majority of the car ride is silent, but Makoto finds himself enjoying the familiar sounds of Sousuke’s old Toyota; the squeaking in the hinges of the back right door, the soft squeal of a brake pad wearing down. He smiles to himself as he gazes out the window that doesn’t roll down anymore because the button is broken.

“You’re looking better,” Sousuke suddenly comments. “I was worried you’d be in worse shape than when you left. But you look good.”

Makoto turns to look at Sousuke as he does the same. Both of them look sharply away again and descend back into silence.

“Sato-san took good care of me.”

“Are you _feeling_ better?”

“Mmm... a little, I guess,” Makoto sighs. “It’s still hard to get out of bed sometimes, and even little things tire me out really fast.”

“You brought your Happy Lights with you, were you using them?” Sousuke questions. Makoto smiles a little, but covers his mouth with his fingers as he refocuses his attention out the window.

“Yes. They’ve been helping.”

“I’m glad.”

As they come to a stop at a stoplight, Makoto peeks over at Sousuke. His left elbow is resting on the center compartment, his fingertips stretched out to just barely brush against the gear stick. When Makoto looks closely, he sees Sousuke’s fingers are trembling.

“Are you doing okay?” Makoto asks softly. The light turns and Sousuke returns his hand to the steering wheel. Sousuke offers him a glance and shrugs his good shoulder.

“It’s... been a rough couple of weeks,” he admits. “I mean... I know that you were the one who had to leave, but... well, you know. It’s been tough.”

Makoto frowns and looks out the window. It takes all of his willpower not to reach over and take Sousuke’s hand like he usually does. He _wants_ to stand firm, but with every tremor in Sousuke’s voice, Makoto feels his resolve weakening.

“I’m sorry,” Sousuke finally says, his voice very quiet. “I fucked up something good. And I know I don’t deserve forgiv--”

“No, _I’m_ sorry,” Makoto blurts, unable to hold it back anymore. He puts his hand in the center of his chest. “It’s my fault. Things only got this bad because of me. Even with Haru, I....”

Sousuke opens his mouth and closes it again, looking taken aback. His eyes never leave the road, however, as they come to rest at another stoplight.

“I... okay,” Sousuke laughs, a little forcibly. He curses quietly and scratches the back of his head. “Well. Wow. I really wasn’t expec--”

“I’m sorry,” Makoto repeats. The words start to tumble uncontrollably from his lips as he shivers and reaches up to put his face in his hand. “I really am. I’m a weak person. I couldn’t do anything, because I’m a coward. I’m scared of losing people I love. But all I was doing was pushing you and Haru further away, because I thought everything would get better if I just ignored it. I hate fighting with Haru. I can’t... I was so afraid of losing him, I just blamed you for everything because I thought it would all be okay because we were dating. But it all fell apart and blew up in my face, just like Rin said. He warned me but I let things get out of hand just like he said I would. If anyone doesn’t deserve forgiveness, it’s me.”

Makoto doesn’t realize they’ve parked. His voice is thick and shaking. Even though he’s on the verge of tears, his eyes stay stubbornly dry, refusing to let him fall apart. Meanwhile, Sousuke stares hard at the steering wheel, tapping his fingers on it as he listens to Makoto speak.

“You keep saying ‘I’, but it wasn’t just you who was fucking up. Me and Haruka weren’t really being saints, either, you know.”

Makoto sniffles, frustrated that he can’t produce tears right now.

“...Haruka?” Makoto repeats, choking out a confused laugh. Sousuke fiddles with the zipper of his jacket.

“Uh... yeah. Like I said, a lot of things happened. Do you still want coffee? Or...”

Makoto looks out his window; there isn’t a coffee shop around here. A small community park sits empty about a block away.

“Can we walk in the park?” Makoto asks. He glances down at Sousuke’s jacket, however, and frowns. “Oh, but you aren’t dressed that warmly--”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m restless, anyway. Couldn’t wear a coat ‘cuz of my sling,” Sousuke says, gesturing to his right arm. “I think I have gloves in the glove compartment, though.”

Makoto moves his legs to open the compartment for him. He digs out the gloves and hands them over, but Sousuke just looks at them with a grimace on his face.

“Alright, I’m... sorry to ask, but can you put them on for me?”

“Oh!” Makoto exclaims. He lets out a laugh and grabs the gloves again. “Of course I can.”

Sousuke angles his body towards him and offers him his left hand first, stretching out his fingers and wiggling into the glove as Makoto slips it over his hand. He’s much more careful with Sousuke’s right hand, gently holding it as he slides the glove over it. As he does, he hears Sousuke’s breath hitch slightly.

“What is it?” Makoto asks. He looks up to meet Sousuke’s eyes and immediately blushes upon seeing the longing in Sousuke’s face. Sousuke gives a tiny shake of his head, his lips curling slightly as his brows creases.

“I missed you so fucking much,” he whispers. “Just... your voice, and your hands, and your face. Everything.”

Makoto takes a breath and settles his hand over Sousuke’s. His heart pounds in his chest and he swallows hard, giving a small nod.

“I missed you, too.”

“You only blame yourself, but I was an idiot, too. I fucked up. It’s my fault, too,” Sousuke croaks. Makoto glances up at him. His eyes are swimming with tears. The second their gazes meet, Sousuke gets shy, immediately looking away and blinking hard to clear the tears. “God damn it.”

“Why are you crying?” Makoto asks, shocked. Sousuke clenches his jaw.

“Isn’t it obvious? I mean, _god_ , I didn’t think I’d be able to talk with you at all today, and now you say you missed me too? I was expecting you to scream, or to... to...”

Sousuke stumbles over his words as Makoto reaches up to slide his fingers across his neck, hooking his fingers on him and bringing him closer. He doesn’t put up a fight.

“...punch me or somethin’,” Sousuke mutters under his breath. Makoto leans in to very faintly brush their lips together. Sousuke lets it happen without a moment’s hesitation, leaning back with his one good hand resting helplessly in his lap. A soft sound escapes Sousuke’s throat, but Makoto cuts the kiss off before it can escalate. Sousuke doesn’t follow him as their lips part, but he inclines his head forward to bump their foreheads together.

“I’ve never hit anyone in my life,” Makoto says quietly. “I wouldn’t hit you.”

Sousuke lets out a soft laugh and nuzzles closer. Makoto feels his eyelashes brushing against his cheek.

“You almost hit my dad once.”

Makoto leans back to look Sousuke in the eye, smiling a little.

“Well... that was different. I was riled up and mad, and Iwao-san was threatening to call the police.”

“So I have to call the police to get you to punch me?” Sousuke jokes. Makoto giggles, bumping their heads together one more time. As he leans closer to nuzzle him more, his seatbelt catches and locks, preventing him from moving.

“I’m not going to _punch_ you,” Makoto sighs. He returns to his seat so he can unbuckle his seat belt. Sousuke does the same, awkwardly wrestling his way out of the strap and trying to avoid catching his arm.

“Oh, uh...” Sousuke starts. Makoto looks at him again, but Sousuke is turned away. “That kiss didn’t... have to mean anything. I mean, if you... well... shit. Look, all I’m trying to say is that it doesn’t have to mean everything is all automatically better or anything like that. Like... I get it if I’m not off the hook.”

“I don’t think there were any ‘hooks’ to begin with,” Makoto says softly. “And I’m ready to be done blaming other people.”

“Me too,” Sousuke agrees, relief crossing his features. They both get out of the car and start making their way towards the park. It’s chilly out, but the cold doesn’t have any bite. Little bits of sunlight filter through the clouds and it feels like hope.

The community park isn’t anything special. There’s a fountain and a gazebo, connected via a winding stone path. There are patches of dried up, dead plants where flowers sprout in the spring, and the majority of the park is made up of half-frozen mud peppered with footprints.

“I--” “So--” Makoto and Sousuke start at the same time. They fall silent, but they both smile a little as they come to a stop under the gazebo. Makoto leans against the railing, his hands tucked in his warm pockets as he tucks his chin down to keep warm. Sousuke stands in front of him, his free hand in the pocket of his jacket.

“You can go first,” Makoto offers.

“Ah. I just wanted to ask why the change of heart? I mean... I was really expecting you to be pissed off. I didn’t think you’d agree to come out and talk to me,” Sousuke says. “This is like... the last thing I expected, to be honest.”

“Sato-san kind of gave me a wake up call,” Makoto explains. He scuffs the toe of his shoe against the stone floor of the gazebo. “Rin, too. And I guess I knew I was messing up too, deep down. I just... needed someone to really let me have it. And Sato-san kinda just... yeah.”

“I see,” Sousuke says. He purses his lips and looks out at the park, going quiet. “Did you have something you wanted to say?”

“I wanted to know if you’ve been having problems with your anxiety,” Makoto whispers. Sousuke’s brow twitches a little and Makoto quickly adds, “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“No, I should. Like I said, these past two weeks have been hard,” Sousuke begins. He clears his throat and averts his eyes. “And…”

“Did you really get drunk and fall? Or... between you and Haru--”

“No,” Sousuke says quickly. “I mean... shit, that’s not what I meant. Yes, I _did_ get drunk and I completely wiped out on the ice. That... was embarrassing and I’ll probably never show my face at that bar again. But Haruka and I didn’t touch each other at all. Actually, when you left, we didn’t say a word. I think we both kinda realized how badly we fucked up.”

 _Haruka again._ Makoto tilts his head, curiosity gnawing at him. He wants to ask about it, but doesn’t interrupt Sousuke’s story.

“Well, I had already been having anxiety attacks because of the whole situation. I locked myself in the bedroom when they happened, because like _hell_ I was going to show Haruka that. On that one day Rin called me about fifty _fucking_ times, I... alright, I had a huge hangover from the night before, and I was puking my guts out, and having bad attacks at the same time. I was a fucking mess. And... well, Haruka called the ambulance for me. And came to the hospital with me.”

“You hate hospitals,” Makoto comments, somewhat to himself.

“No shit. Haruka picked up on that real quick. Just about broke my jaw when the convulsions started. And, like, he was pretty freaked out by it, I think. But he talked to me. He rattled off some stupid shit about not resisting the water I think, and that was weird, but it helped. He even held my hand and contacted my dad for me. Then my dad got there, and as soon as the attacks ended, he chewed me out for making stupid choices with my medication. Haruka defended me. Pretty loudly, too. My dad didn’t back down and basically lectured him into submission. And that’s the story. Tah-fucking-dah.”

“Sousuke,” Makoto breathes. He shakes his head and drops his forehead into his palm. “I feel like such an idiot.”

“Yeah, well. How do you think I feel?” Sousuke snorts. “I made a complete jackass out of myself because I couldn’t handle losing you. And then I come over and you’re better than you were when you left? It makes me wonder how good I had it until I fucked it up, and how bad _you_ had it until you left.”

“I haven’t been that great,” Makoto whispers. He crosses his arms, tucking his hands under his arms to keep them warm. “Sato-san and Rin helped, but I just... I missed you, and what we had before all of this happened. And I’ve been... dreaming about things getting better, like it was before.”

Sousuke hesitates before taking two strides and pulling Makoto into a one-armed embrace. His right arm remains tucked safely between them. Makoto doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around his waist as tight as he can. He buries his face in Sousuke’s right shoulder and presses a very soft kiss to it.

“Me too,” Sousuke murmurs into Makoto’s hair just above his ear. The reverberations of his voice send a pleasantly familiar chill down Makoto’s back. Sousuke cups the back of his neck, keeping the bare skin warm against the sudden breeze that makes Makoto shiver. He doesn’t care if anyone can see them right now. Something as petty as someone else’s opinion isn’t going to take this away from him.

“But... that still doesn’t answer... why are you calling Haru ‘Haruka’? He hates that name,” Makoto says. “I mean... as far as I know...”

“He said only you and a few other people are allowed to call him Haru. Like it’s some sort of fucking club,” Sousuke grumbles, giving an extravagant roll of his eyes. Makoto raises his eyebrows, surprised. Sousuke grins slightly, “What, did you think we became best buddies or something? He’s still annoying as hell and I want to punch him at least twice a day. But I suppose I can see why you’ve hung around him all this time.”

Sousuke gives Makoto a small smirk, his eyes devious.

“Actually, he wanted me to keep calling him Nanase. But I wasn’t about to let him get away with seeing me at my lowest without a little payback. He doesn’t object to it, but I know it pisses him off when I do it on purpose. Little victories, I guess.”

Makoto’s frown slowly melts into a smile as he splays his fingers over Sousuke’s back, pulling him in again as he presses their foreheads together.

“You have no idea how happy this makes me,” Makoto says, a little breathless. His heart feels like it’s swelling and crushing his lungs against his ribcage.

“Oh, and another thing. He wants to talk to you about something,” Sousuke says. “He wouldn’t tell me what it was about, though, so I’m sure it’s more Best Buddy Club business. So... would you like to come home with me? He’s there right now.”

Makoto has a feeling he knows what Haru wants to talk about. He wonders how understanding Sousuke will be, if at all. Sousuke’s relationship with Haru is probably still very fragile, but if any reconciliation is going to take place, things need to be put out on the table for everyone to see.

“Yes. I have a lot to say to Haru, too,” Makoto agrees.

“One more thing,” Sousuke adds. He takes a small, stilted breath before setting his jaw and looking at Makoto somberly. “Are we giving this another chance, or... do you still want to think about it?”

Makoto is about to agree when he remembers what Rin said about taking charge. He closes his mouth and thinks, which puts an anxious look on Sousuke’s face. However, before Sousuke can speak again, Makoto squeezes him.

“I don’t want it to be based on ‘chances’ anymore. I just want to fix problems as they come,” Makoto says. Sousuke lifts his eyebrows, but doesn’t protest. He gives a slow nod.

“Well, shit. I think you might be onto something,” he mutters. Makoto tips his head back and laughs right before pulling away from Sousuke and taking his hand firmly in his. He squeezes it.

“Let’s go home.”

Sousuke smiles and squeezes Makoto’s hand right back, following him out of the gazebo and to the car. Above, the sun has been covered once more by the dark grey overcast. It still hangs over Makoto like a looming beast, but for the first time in a long time, he feels confident that the sun will part the clouds again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friends [Diana](http://coronaampora.tumblr.com) and [Nicole](http://syniio.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](http://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](http://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](http://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](http://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	49. Chapter 49

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: looks like i have a little bit of free time next week!!  
> professor: hey build the ark  
> me: *looks into the camera like i'm on the office*
> 
> Trust me, guys, there's nothing I'd rather do than write FEFSKY all day rather than all this studying I'm doing. On the plus side, I am in the top 5% of my anatomy class!!! At least it's paying off! (I wish I could go back and have Sousuke and Makoto suffer more through Intro to Anatomy... this stuff is a lot harder than I portrayed it. These nerds got off lucky.) Thank you so much for being so patient with me. I know updates have just been getting slower and slower, but I am just as in love with FEFSKY as I've always been. Unfortunately, some people have been 'predicting the death' of FEFSKY and I'm here to say that FEFSKY is going all the way to the end. It's just going to take some time for us to get there! So please continue to enjoy, and thank you for all of your well-wishes for my studies!

The apartment smells like Haru’s cooking when they return. It’s homey and familiar, but Makoto hesitates before crossing the threshold. It’s only been two weeks and it feels so strange to step into this house. It’s even stranger not to feel a sense of dread wash over him as soon as he walks in.

“Oi, Haruka! I’m home!” Sousuke calls, kicking off his sneakers and padding into the apartment. Makoto scrambles to follow, shedding his coat and balancing on one foot at a time to wrestle himself out of his boots.

“Drop the ‘-ka’,” comes an annoyed voice from the kitchen. Haru appears from around the corner in nothing but swim trunks and an apron, a spatula in hand. He glares daggers at Sousuke, but freezes upon seeing Makoto.  He snaps his jaw shut and his eyes widen for a moment. He takes a breath like he’s going to say something, but quickly turns away and looks down at the floor. Makoto wrings his hands a bit, but musters up the courage to step forward.

“Haru,” Makoto says softly. Haru tenses.

“...What?”

“I’m home.”

Haru’s lips form a tight line as he gives a single nod and looks up to face Makoto fully.

“Welcome home,” he greets in a tiny voice.

“...Is Rin still here?” Makoto asks after a long pause. Haru still seems floored, so Makoto kindly gives him some space as he walks down the hall to the living room and looks around. He half expects to see Rin there, lounging on the couch. He’s a little sad when he finds the room empty.

“Nah,” Sousuke says. He passes Makoto and flops down on the couch with a loud sigh. “He left for Iwatobi last night to see Samezuka and Gou. He hung out with us for a while, though. And actually, he helped patch things up between me and Haruka.”

“Really?” Makoto asks. He joins Sousuke on the couch, angling his body towards him. Sousuke grins a little and nods.

“Yeah. Sorry you weren’t here for all of this. You missed a lot of... like, talking. Just hours and _hours_ of us talking. There was some yelling. Rin cried a bit, like he usually does. But this week was basically just me drinking myself stupid, puking, anxiety attacks. And like, _twenty_ lectures from Rin. My ass still hurts from sitting at the kotatsu for so long,” Sousuke explains. Makoto nods and laughs.

“I got a lecture from Rin, too,” he says. “And Sato-san made me get up and do stuff even if I didn’t want to.”

“We owe them big time,” Sousuke sighs. “So... Rin and Fuyumi met?”

“Yes. They really like each other. Sato-san thinks Rin is cute.”

“Incredible,” Sousuke deadpans, rolling his eyes. “I’m so surprised.”

Makoto laughs again, reaching out to touch Sousuke’s thigh. Sousuke slides his hand over Makoto’s, squeezing tight.

“Your laugh is beautiful,” Sousuke murmurs. Makoto flushes red, bowing his head and snorting as he covers his eyes with his free hand.

“That’s...”

“Gross.”

Makoto looks over his shoulder as Haru walks into the living room, now dressed in casual clothing. Sousuke, meanwhile, scowls at him.

“Don’t you have better things to do?” he asks scathingly. Makoto tenses, mostly out of reflex, but Haru remains unfazed.

“There isn’t enough food for all of us. I saved what I made for another time,” he says. He looks away. “I want takeout.”

“What do you want?” Sousuke huffs. He releases Makoto’s hand so he can fish out his phone and pull up the dialpad. “I kinda feel like sushi, actually.”

“Pineapple pizza,” Haru says immediately. Sousuke scowls at him, but Haru maintains expressionless eye contact.

“You’re just saying that so I don’t get what I want.”

“No I’m not.”

Sousuke bristles but looks up the number anyway, then dials it and brings the phone to his ear.

Makoto watches the display in awed amusement. The words said aren’t any different, but the tone has completely changed. There isn’t even a smidgen of hostility in the air. Makoto can barely believe his ears. He’s almost afraid to say anything; he doesn’t want to disrupt such a strange and unfamiliar peace.

As Sousuke waits to be taken off hold, he glances over at Haru, eyes trailing down to the pants he’s wearing—capri pants with bows at the hems. He grimaces.

“I think those are girl’s pants,” he comments. Haru blinks slowly, his face completely blank.

“They’re comfortable.”

“So are sweatpants,” Sousuke points out. “Honestly, do you want to be a guy or a girl?”

“Yes,” Haru says before promptly turning and leaving the room, looking smug. Sousuke opens his mouth like he’s going to yell something, but he’s taken off hold. He stops himself and gives Makoto an exasperated look. Makoto just smiles and shrugs.

“Yeah, hi. I’d like to get pizza delivered, please?” Sousuke says. Makoto pats his thigh and stands, leaving Sousuke to order the pizza. He pads into the kitchen, where Haru is washing dishes.

“Want me to help?” Makoto asks.

“No,” Haru says. He pauses and shoots Makoto a look. “But thanks.”

“Have you been doing okay?” Makoto asks carefully. He goes to the counter and leans against it as he watches the soap suds in the sink. “... I know Sousuke wasn’t really okay, but how about you?”

“Worried,” Haru mutters. “...I didn’t think you would come back.”

He stops washing dishes and stares down at the soapy plate in his hands. His jaw clenches and he shakes his head.

“I said and did awful things,” he continues. “To both of you. I’m sorry. I didn’t consider… your feelings.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Makoto replies. “I’m sorry for ignoring you. My relationship with Sousuke was never more important. It was just...”

“Your first relationship,” Haru finishes quietly. A tiny smile graces his lips as he continues to wash dishes. The look on his face is almost peaceful. “I understand that now. We can’t be together all the time.”

“But Haru, I _want_ to be together all the time,” Makoto presses. Haru only pauses slightly in his cleaning as Makoto turns fully towards him. “Because you’re my best friend. More than a best friend. Someone I love just as much as Sousuke, just... not in the same way.”

Haru opens his mouth like he’s going to protest, but stops and releases a short sigh through his nose.

“I see,” he finally says. He finishes washing the dishes and rinses out the sink, frowning deeply. “I have something I want to tell you. I think you already know.”

“I think I do,” Makoto says softly. Haru nods once.

“I want to tell both of you at the same time.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Haru says firmly. “Sousuke deserves to know just as much as you.”

Makoto’s heart swells at Haru’s use of Sousuke’s first name. He says it softly; not necessarily fondly, but without a hint of contempt. It’s strange, but certainly not in a bad way.

“Are things really better? You really went with him to the hospital?”

Haru gives a tiny nod and looks away.

“I didn’t know what was happening at first. He just sounded like he was in pain,” he explains. “But I remembered something that you said about anxiety--”

“I told you about his anxiety before?” Makoto asks. He wracks his brain to remember a single time he mentioned it. Haru shrugs.

“You did. A long time ago,” he says. “I was listening.”

Makoto frowns as Haru turns to look up at him, his face slightly pained.

“I _was_ listening,” he repeats.

“Haru,” Makoto sighs. As Haru turns his body away from him, Makoto catches his wrist and pulls him into a gentle embrace. Haru stiffens at first like a cat that doesn’t want to be picked up and held, but he slowly relaxes in Makoto’s hold and hugs him back, burying his face in his shoulder. Makoto dips his head to murmur in Haru’s ear, “Thank you for taking care of him.”

Haru squeezes him a little tighter before starting to stiffen up again, wanting to be let go. Makoto indulges himself for just a tiny bit longer, then frees Haru and lets him get back to rinsing dishes.

“Wait in the living room. I’ll come talk soon,” Haru says, shooing Makoto with a wave of his hand. Makoto hesitates, not really wanting to leave Haru’s side, but another insistent wave has him trotting out of the kitchen like a scolded puppy.

When he returns to the living room, Sousuke is playing Solitaire on his phone.

“Shit,” he curses as he cycles through his cards. When Makoto sits down, he locks his screen and turns to him. “I ran out of moves.”

“Is that so?” Makoto teases. Sousuke grins crookedly, flashing sharp canines and letting out a soft chuckle.

“Yeah. I hate that game.”

“Why do you have it on your phone, then?”

“It gives me something to do in the bathroom.”

Makoto laughs, his nose crinkling as he leans away from Sousuke, who crawls forward in pursuit.

“Yuck,” Makoto says, trying to get farther away from Sousuke and failing. Sousuke grabs his leg and hoists it over his thighs, edging closer and trying to smooch Makoto who tips his head back to avoid his lips. “I hope you wash your hands!”

“Of course I wash my hands, idiot,” Sousuke snorts. “What do you take me for, an animal?”

“Sometimes.”

Makoto giggles as Sousuke nuzzles his neck. With Sousuke’s good hand hooked on his waist, Makoto tips his body back and leans as far away as possible, letting his head fall back. When he opens his eyes, he sees an upside-down Haru standing there, grimacing.

Makoto straightens instantly, smoothing down his clothes and moving his leg out of Sousuke’s lap. Sousuke just gives him a devious look.

“Jealous?” he needles. Haru sniffs, petulant.

“Not really.”

“Ah... Haru wanted to talk about something?” Makoto pipes in. Haru shifts uncomfortably as Sousuke shrugs.

“Sure. Is this a talk we should break open sake for, or...?”

“I think it’s a more serious conversation,” Makoto says. Sousuke hums, looking between Haru and Makoto, then shrugs again and nods.

“Alright.”

The three of them sit down around the kotatsu, Makoto and Sousuke sitting across from each other and Haru at the forefront, his eyes trained downwards. Makoto recognizes that he’s nervous; his eyes are unusually alert and his pupils have dilated. There’s a slight twitch in his pinky finger, which he taps impatiently on the table.

“Haru? Are you sure you want to talk about this now?” Makoto asks very gently. He reaches out to touch Haru’s pinky, stilling it. However, Haru withdraws and places both of his hands firmly in his lap.

“Yes,” he says. Raising his head, he manages to look at Makoto, then at Sousuke, before averting his eyes and looking down again.

“It’s really okay if we just--” Makoto begins.

“No.”

Makoto sighs and looks to Sousuke, flashing him a small smile before refocusing his attention on Haru. He doesn’t try to say anything again, instead waiting patiently for Haru to continue on his own. It takes so long that Makoto begins to wonder if Haru even knows what he wants to talk about, but without warning, he begins:

“I’m... sorry,” he says, voice tight and careful. He flicks his eyes to Sousuke and manages to hold his gaze. “I’m sorry for making things hard for you. And saying bad things about you.”

“Hey, man,” Sousuke says, awkwardly scratching at his neck. “I said some shitty things, too. But... like I said before, it’s cool.”

“It’s not okay,” Haru mutters. He takes a big breath, “Me and Makoto... for a long time...”

Haru shifts, turning his head as if he’s about to ask Makoto for help, but he steels himself and tightens his fists in his lap.

“We’ve been together since we were young,” Haru explains. “And it was like that for a long time. Before Nagisa, even before Rin. It was just Makoto and me. No one... wanted to be around me, because I wasn’t like them. Because I couldn’t... understand...I just--”

He holds out his hand as if grasping for something, his brows furrowing as he stares at his palm.

“I have a hard time understanding other people, and their feelings. They’re difficult. Too much effort,” Haru continues. He stops to swallow, his voice beginning to rasp. He taps his pinky on his thigh rapidly, and Makoto watches with a frown.

“Haru,” he murmurs, starting to reach for Haru again. Haru gently bats his hand away.

“Even when other people started avoiding Makoto for being my friend, he stayed with me,” he says softly. “And he made it easier to talk to people. He pushed me to swim. He said that it was useless to swim without me there, but really... without Makoto...”

Haru trails off into silence. Makoto feels the blood rushing in his ears as color rises to his cheeks; he never knew Haru felt this way.

“He helped me make new friends,” Haru says, his voice perking slightly. “The others in the swim club, in elementary and high school. Rin... was someone special, too. He didn’t need any help from Makoto to get to know me.”

Haru’s thin lips curve into a very small smile at the thought. But it fades a moment later and he looks somber again, perhaps even bitter.

“But he’s far away, in Australia. And Rei is in the United States, and Gou and Nagisa back in Iwatobi. We’re all separated. I followed Makoto to Tokyo, thinking everything could be like it was before. But Makoto... found someone,” Haru mumbles. “I couldn’t understand my feelings. I wanted him to be happy. But, still... when I found out it was you, I was angry. You were someone that I never wanted Makoto to have in his life. Because I thought... if you treated me the way you did, you’d treat him like that, too.”

For a moment, Sousuke looks offended. He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but he stops himself and just gives a small nod of agreement.

“He spent less time with me, and more with you. I felt like something was stolen from me. Even... even though he doesn’t belong to anyone,” Haru struggles to say. He looks ashamed of himself, and doesn’t look anyone in the eye as he clenches his jaw. His pinky _tap, tap, taps_ on his lap. “Even after we ended up here in Tokyo, I still can’t... I’m still afraid of losing him.”

Haru squeezes his fists as hard as he can, his knuckles turning white against the dark blue of his pants. Makoto’s heart seizes at the sight of Haru looking so utterly defeated.

“I thought I had moved on from it. But I still can’t stand to be apart. I... have feelings for him,” Haru croaks. He hunches his shoulders as Sousuke tenses. “N-Not the way you do. But it’s more than just friends.”

“Sato-san explained it to me,” Makoto says, keeping his voice soft. Haru pinches his lips together, but he looks unsurprised.

“I told her not to.”

“It was my fault. I pressured her to tell me,” Makoto assures him. “And I’m not mad. I was never mad about it.”

“Wait, so... is this a crush type of thing?” Sousuke interrupts. “I mean, that might be a problem. I’m not pissed, but I’m just saying--”

“It’s not like that,” Haru says. “It’s... not romantic.”

Sousuke makes a face, the one he usually makes when he doesn’t want to try and understand what’s being thrown at him, but he doesn’t complain. Instead, he nods and looks up at the ceiling.

“Alright then. So you love Makoto, but not the same way I do.”

“Yes.”

“Sato-san said--” Makoto begins.

“I don’t want to know what Fuyumi said, or I’ll be even more confused,” Sousuke sighs exasperatedly. “So... simple terms, please?”

“Platonic soulmates,” Haru says quietly. He fidgets. “That’s how I see it.”

“Soulmates,” Sousuke repeats. Haru nods once, and Sousuke’s shoulders relax slightly. “Okay. Well, that makes sense, I guess. It’s kinda hard not to fall for this guy.”

The small joke lifts the heavy atmosphere, making the air a little more breathable. Makoto laughs softly, but Haru remains silent. He does, however, look a little less helpless as he raises his head to look Sousuke in the eye.

“That’s how I feel. I didn’t say anything because... I didn’t want to ruin things,” Haru explains. “But not saying anything made it worse. And I almost destroyed everything.”

Haru looks down, looking more ashamed than ever.

“I didn’t even want to break you up. I just didn’t want to lose him,” Haru says, his voice breaking and his fists tightening in his lap. “He’s the only person I have here.”

He stares hard down at the table, his face expressionless, but his body strained and taut like a bow. He opens and closes his mouth like he wants to say something, but all that comes out are little sounds from the back of his throat.

“I’m sorry,” he finally croaks before the room becomes absolutely silent. Haru’s chin gives the tiniest of quivers, so slight it’s barely noticeable. He blinks three times in rapid succession and bows his head more, trying to hide his face with a curtain of black hair. He squints his eyes as they begin to swim, trying to keep himself composed, but when he blinks again, tears drip down onto the backs of his hands.

Makoto resists the urge to say anything, knowing Haru isn’t the type to accept snuggles as a form of comfort, and instead watches the display in silence. He notices, with a hint of irony, that this is the first time he has ever seen Haru unhappy with water on his face.

He remembers a dream, vaguely, in which Haru had been hunched over and sobbing, but this doesn’t look anything like his dream. The real Haru cries in absolute silence save for the occasional sniff or loud gulp, and it doesn’t last long. Within a few minutes, he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand and gives one last sniff. When he raises his head, his puffy eyes paired with his slightly miffed expression makes Makoto smile.

“Better?” he asks. Haru nods once.

“I wanted to tell you for a long time,” he says. “But...”

“I understand,” Makoto assures him. Haru offers him a small smile. “And I want you to know that I feel the same way.”

Haru blinks, his lips parting for a moment before he pinches his lips together.

“And I’m sorry, too. I... really hurt you, and I’m sorry. Sousuke... well, he flipped everything upside-down and I just... I was selfish, and I only thought about myself and my relationship. And I let this go on for way too long. I don’t even know if I deserve to be forgiven.”

“You do,” Sousuke and Haru say simultaneously. They flash each other a glare, which makes Makoto laugh.

“That’s very nice,” he sighs. “But I’m serious.”

“So am I,” Haru says. Sousuke nods in agreement. “I do forgive you.”

“And I’m sorry for being a douche,” Sousuke pipes in. Haru side-eyes him.

“I’ll think about it,” he mutters. Sousuke curls his lip at him.

“Excuse me?”

Haru smiles a little.

“I forgive you, too,” he finally says. Sousuke takes a deep breath through his nose and exhales through his mouth, his eyes shut. When he opens them again, he grins.

“Awesome.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to [Chris](http://sometimes-morgan-freeman.tumblr.com), and my dear friends [Diana](http://coronaampora.tumblr.com) and [Nicole](http://syniio.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](http://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](http://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](http://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](http://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	50. Chapter 50

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being so patient with me. Just an update on current academics; I scored a 70/70 on my latest lab exam. Originally, I had scored 69/70, but my TA bumped it up because I asked her about a question I got wrong and argued for the point. I have yet another lab exam this week Thursday (we're doing muscles and actions), and then a lecture exam on March 3rd and... blah blah blah. As you can imagine, I'm exhausted. This chapter took a long time and my editors and I were working until 6AM EST getting it ready for you guys. Again, I apologize for all these late chapters. I must sound like a broken record by now, but I honestly am just so busy. I adore FEFSKY. None of you have to worry one bit that FEFSKY is dying or that I'm going to abandon it. It hurts not being able to write it.
> 
> So no matter how slowly it updates, I won't leave you guys hanging. Thank you so much for your patience and understanding, and please enjoy the end of part 3!

The pizza makes Sousuke gag. He chugs half a can of soda, then promptly gets in a fight with Haru about why pineapple on pizza is unethical and disgusting. It gets so intense that Makoto wonders if they’re going to relapse into hating each other, but just when he’s about to step in to mediate, Sousuke starts laughing and Haru smiles.

“No wonder Rin likes you so much,” Sousuke sighs, flicking a piece of pineapple off his pizza and inspecting the slice thoroughly before deeming it edible. “You’re an idiot, just like him and the rest of his friends.”

“You’re his friend,” Haru deadpans. Sousuke pauses mid-chew and narrows his eyes.

“Sometimes,” he lies. Makoto giggles and Sousuke perks up like a dog getting attention.

“Sousuke missed you,” Haru quips, turning to Makoto with a completely straight face. “ _So_ much.”

“Shut your mouth. You missed him too,” Sousuke snaps, curling his lip as he scowls. The blush at the tops of his cheekbones gives him away, however. He grabs his soda can and lifts it to his lips to partially hide his face, mumbling, “I just... whatever.”

He glowers at the table, still blushing, while Haru carries on eating as if nothing happened. He offers Makoto a brief glance, his lips pulled up into a little grin.

“I missed you, too,” Makoto murmurs. “Both of you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you two. I kept... I kept wanting to run home. I thought about it a lot, just... coming back, but I wanted things to change first.”

“And things _should’ve_ changed,” Sousuke mutters. “They should’ve changed from the beginning. It still pisses me off that you... that _we_ forced you to leave, before anything was fixed. This isn’t just my apartment. It’s yours, too.”

“Well...” Makoto trails off, laughing a little and shrugging. “It’s... kinda... mostly Iwao-san’s, actu--”

“Don’t rope my dad into this,” Sousuke groans. “Point is, we both live here. Nobody should’ve been forced out.”

“It should have been me,” Haru adds. “I’m the one who’s not supposed to be here.”

“Speaking of which,” Sousuke says. He turns to Haru, looking down his nose at him. “Haruka, when do you plan on going back to your apartment?”

Haru looks down at his pizza, poking at a piece of pineapple before picking it off and nibbling on it.

“The landlord hasn’t said anything. I haven’t heard anything about it.”

“No emails?”

“No.”

“Phone calls?”

“I said he didn’t say anything.”

“I kind of like having him here,” Makoto pipes in. Sousuke arches an eyebrow at him and moves to fold his arms before realizing his sling is still on and letting out a frustrated grunt. Makoto frets, “Is there a problem with him staying here?”

“What? No. It’s not that. Honestly, I like having him here, too. It’s nice to have the chores done, and another person cooking,” Sousuke explains. He smirks a little, but then turns to look at Haru, his brow creased. “But it can’t be comfortable, sleeping on the couch.”

Haru glances over at the couch as Sousuke says it, where a knit blanket and a pillow are piled neatly on one end.

“It’s fine.”

“You’re swimming, aren’t you? Sleeping on the couch could really mess up your back,” Sousuke lectures. “And make your muscles knot. You’ll get cramps, and it’ll piss Rin off if you don’t get into the finals of a swimming tournament because you slept like a dumbass. I’d be pissed, too.”

“I see,” Haru says, blinking. “So I should look for a new apartment.”

“That’s isn’t--jeez. What I’m _saying_ is that either we buy some like... nice pull-out couch, some extra padding... or we all look for a new apartment and sign the lease together,” Sousuke says. He glances from Makoto to Haru to Makoto again. “Between the three of us, we could easily pay for a two-bedroom apartment with a couple hours a week working part-time. And... actually, it’d be nice to be out of my dad’s hair. The only problem, I guess, would be actually finding a job in this god damn city.”

Snorting, Sousuke reaches for his soda can and shakes his head as he drinks from it.

“Wait... Haru, how did you pay for _your_ apartment?” Makoto asks, furrowing his brow. “I mean... your parents paid for it, right?”

“I got forty million yen from the Olympi--”

Sousuke promptly spews soda across the table. Makoto nearly jumps out of his skin, while Haru watches with disinterest and mild disgust. Sousuke coughs and splutters, wiping at the soda-flavored drool dripping down his chin and hacking up the fluid that had gone down the wrong pipe. With a final, rattling gasp for air, he manages to speak.

“ _What?_ ”

“The Japanese Swimming Federation was offering forty million for gold medalists,” Haru sighs, looking bored. “And... I have a lot from the commercials... and from the Olympic Committee... they gave me another three million, and--”

“How much money do you _have?_ ”

Haru is silent for a second.

“...Seventy-five...Eighty? Million? I think. Maybe less,” Haru mutters. “I just put it in a different bank account, because I already had enough from the tournaments.”

“ _Haru_ ,” Makoto breathes. “That’s amazing!”

“Not really,” Haru says, uncomfortable. “I just wanted to swim.”

“What the hell do you _mean_ , ‘not really’?” Sousuke asks, still wheezing slightly. “You’re filthy rich! Well... kinda filthy rich, I guess. A lot more than my savings, that’s for sure.”

“If you want it, take it,” Haru mumbles. Sousuke looks like he’s considering it for a moment before Makoto gives him a look.

“That’s _your_ money, Haru,” Makoto says firmly. “You could get anything you want. It’d be smart to invest in something that--”

“I want to buy a mackerel fishing boa--”

“Not _that_ kind of investment!” Makoto cries.

“Then an apartment. With you and Sousuke,” Haru says with a tone of finality. He crosses his arms.

“Well, damn. We could afford to live in one of those big penthouses, like my dad,” Sousuke laughs. Makoto smiles a little, but shakes his head.

“I’d rather stick to something small and cozy, like this.”

“You don’t want to live in a big house someday?”

It takes a moment, but when Makoto realizes what Sousuke is saying, he blushes and looks down at the table. Brushing a lock of hair behind his ear, he shrugs.

“Mmm... I like small houses.”

“We’ll have to make compromises, then,” Sousuke replies, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver up Makoto’s spine.

“Don’t flirt in front of me,” Haru grumbles. “Annoying.”

“ _You’re_ annoying.”

“I am _not_.”

Makoto smiles at the both of them, feeling a sense of relief washing over him. He laughs again, warm and happy. It chips away at the ice in his chest, slowly but surely making it lighter and lighter.

As he looks out across the table, he sees Sousuke looking back at him, his eyes soft and inviting. The way he twitches his lips looks a lot like a suggestion to find someplace private, which brings even more heat to Makoto’s face. Of _course_ he’d like to spend time with Sousuke, preferably under warm covers with his clothes off, but he doesn’t want to upset Haru this soon into a peace treaty.

Haru, oblivious to the silent flirting, busies himself with making sure his last few bites of pizza have exactly one chunk of pineapple on each.

“I’ll take care of the kitchen,” Sousuke says suddenly, hauling himself to his feet and grabbing the pizza box. Haru crams the rest of the pizza into his mouth and gets up to follow. Not even ten seconds after they leave, Makoto hears heated bickering from the kitchen—something about ‘let me do it’ and ‘no, let me’. Shaking his head with disbelief, Makoto fishes his phone out of his pocket to text Sato.

_[They’re still fighting.]_

_[oh no!!!! do you need me to come get you??????]_

_[No. They’re fighting like you and Sousuke fight_ _:)_ ]

_[ahaha omg tell them theyre nerds]_

When the kitchen goes quiet, Makoto looks up and strains to listen. He can’t help but feel slightly uneasy about silence. Getting to his feet, he tiptoes out of the living room and down the hall to the kitchen, where he peeks inside.

Standing in the middle of the kitchen is Sousuke and Haru, Sousuke with his left arm looped around Haru’s head, nearly smothering him as he holds his face to his chest. At first glance, Makoto wonders if Sousuke is strangling Haru, but Haru has his arms coiled around Sousuke’s waist in a _hug_.

Makoto doesn’t have a lot of time to watch, because Sousuke happens to look up and see him. With a surprised sound, he jumps away from Haru, holding him at arm’s length by the shoulder. Haru just looks annoyed, until he too looks to see Makoto and makes a face. Giddy, Makoto walks into the kitchen and grins from ear to ear.

“That was really cute,” he coos. Sousuke flushes to the tips of his ears and Haru just looks away in disinterest.

“Whatever,” Sousuke grumbles. He shoves his left hand into his pocket and hunches his good shoulder. “Blame Haruka. He was just _thanking_ me for _finally_ bringing you home.”

Haru twitches and gives Sousuke a scathing look, his crossed arms tightening.

“Don’t deny it,” Sousuke mutters. Haru huffs a sigh and shrugs.

“So what? I’m happy he’s home,” he plays it off like it’s nothing and Makoto smiles so wide he feels like his jaw is breaking. In three long strides, he collides with Haru and wraps him up into a great bear hug, nearly squeezing the breath out of him. The sleeve of Makoto’s sweater muffles Haru’s protests.

“I’m happy to be home!” Makoto exclaims. Haru struggles to get his head up for air, stiffening up like a board.

“You’re _heavy_ ,” he wheezes. “Hey. Hey!”

Sousuke, enjoying Haru’s plight, joins in on the hug, sandwiching Haru in. Haru, not appreciating being squished between two giant men, doesn’t relax until he has elbowed every rib. Finally, he settles down between them, reluctantly squeezing Makoto around the waist.

“Welcome home,” Sousuke says. Makoto taps their foreheads together and kisses him over Haru’s head.

“Gross,” Haru mutters. “Let me go if you’re going to do that.”

“It was just one kiss,” Makoto whines. “It’s been a long time.”

Without warning, Haru drops out from between them and manages to wriggle away, sending Makoto and Sousuke knocking into each other. Haru wrinkles his nose at them and smoothes down his fluffed-up hair like a particularly annoyed housecat.

“I want to swim,” he says stiffly.

“My wallet’s in my back pocket,” Sousuke says, refusing to let go of Makoto as he addresses Haru coolly. Haru grimaces.

“I’m not getting it.”

“If you want it you have to get it yourself.”

Haru groans in the back of his throat and comes forward to get Sousuke’s wallet. Makoto watches him curiously as he pulls out Sousuke’s student ID.

“Now put it back in my pocket,” Sousuke instructs, giving a wiggle of his butt. Haru glares at him, then lets the wallet fall out of his hand and onto the floor, much to Sousuke’s chagrin.

“I’ll be back,” Haru mutters, pocketing Sousuke’s ID and pausing at the kitchen doorway. “Enjoy your alone time.”

He sends a knowing smirk over his shoulder that has Makoto blushing and Sousuke muttering something that sounds like a curse before leaving quietly. Once he’s gone, Makoto turns to address Sousuke, who hasn’t let him go.

“Why did you give him your ID?”

“So he can get into the gym at school for free.”

“But he has plenty of money to get in. It’s only five hundred yen for guests, isn’t it?”

“It was more of a peace offering than anything else,” Sousuke explains. He walks forward, backing Makoto up against the kitchen counter until he’s forced to use his hands to brace himself. He manages to knock a few things over in the process.

“Sousu--” he begins, but Sousuke’s lips on his own cuts him off. Humming in approval, Makoto shuts his eyes and kisses him back, enjoying the slight sting of his chapped lips and the scratch of his stubble.

“Okay, I didn’t _just_ miss the sex, but I _really_ missed the sex,” Sousuke admits as soon as he pulls away. Makoto drapes his arms over his shoulders (careful not to put too much pressure on the right one) and laughs.

“It’s your fault it’s been so long,” Makoto teases lightly, walking his fingers between Sousuke’s shoulder blades and making him shudder in his arms. “You were too busy fighting with Haru to pay any attention to me.”

“I know. Rin told me I was a dumbass for ignoring the ‘total babe just a few rooms away’,” Sousuke quotes. Makoto blinks.

“Rin thinks I’m a babe?”

“Who _doesn’t_ think you’re a babe?”

“W-Well--” Makoto splutters, squirming with embarrassment. Sousuke doesn’t let him continue, leaning in for another kiss. However, he catches his shoulder on Makoto’s elbow, putting pressure on the joint and making him hiss in pain. Makoto immediately lifts his arm.

“Don’t,” Sousuke groans, but Makoto is already pulling away, pushing Sousuke back a little so he can slide off the counter. He fusses over Sousuke’s shoulder, making him grumble in annoyance. “Stop, god damn it. It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” Makoto counters. He slides his fingers over the strap of Sousuke’s sling, finding the velcro holding it in place and pulling at it. The strap slowly comes undone, allowing Makoto to pull the sling away. As Sousuke keeps his arm folded against his stomach, Makoto pulls the zipper of his jacket down. “Does it hurt?”

“It’s just stiff,” Sousuke mutters. He pinches his lips together as he straightens his arm to let Makoto pull his jacket off. Makoto bundles it up and tosses it onto the counter, then reaches up to unbutton Sousuke’s button-up.

“Is it okay if I see it?” Makoto asks. Sousuke lets out a short, bitter laugh.

“You were already going to see it,” he says, grumpy. “You know, when we were about to do it.”

“If it hurts this much, there’s no way I wouldn’t notice,” Makoto counters. He finishes unbuttoning Sousuke’s shirt and carefully opens it. He can’t help letting his eyes roam over his chest with a small, appreciative sigh. It takes a bit of effort to tear his eyes away, and he firmly looks away from Sousuke’s chest to push the shirt off of his shoulder.

His shoulder is faintly red, but not ugly and bruised like it was a long time ago. Makoto knows that it will only get worse from here. The scar from his first surgery is still there; white and wrinkled scar tissue that will probably never fade completely. He frowns at it, gently running his cool fingers over it and making Sousuke sigh.

“What did the doctors say, when you went?” Makoto asks. Sousuke grunts, displeased.

“They said that my fall didn’t really matter. It was already on its way to getting bad. I just sped up the inevitable, pretty much,” he explains. He falls silent, his jaw clenched bitterly. “I can’t _fucking_ believe they couldn’t fix it the first time.”

“Sousuke,” Makoto soothes. He moves his hand from his shoulder to his cheek, guiding his gaze to meet his and stroking the dark crescent beneath his eye. “It’s okay.”

Sousuke’s eyes fall and he leans into Makoto’s hand.

“They said I need another surgery. Sooner, rather than later. They won’t have to cut me open completely again if I get it done soon. They’ll... just have to... I don’t know, I think they’re just going to do a keyhole surgery. I wasn’t really listening when they talked about it. I didn’t want to.”

Makoto continues to thumb Sousuke’s cheek as he speaks, offering him the best comfort he can. He knows there’s nothing he can say to relieve Sousuke of the anxiety he feels, so he doesn’t say a word, simply listening to him silently.

“I almost just want to get it amputated,” he jokes humorlessly. “Say goodbye to this shoulder once and for all. Would you still love an amputee?”

“What kind of question is that?” Makoto laughs softly. “Of course I would. That’s not even in question.”

Sousuke sighs through his nose.

“I thought it’d make me feel better to hear you say that, but it didn’t.”

“Maybe it’s because you don’t want to have your arm cut off at all,” Makoto says as tenderly as he can manage. “You shouldn’t joke about that.”

“I just want it to stop _haunting_ me,” Sousuke says, his voice harsh. “I’m not asking for much!”

Makoto frowns as Sousuke shies away from his touch. He keeps his distance, letting Sousuke burn himself out as his anger flares.

“I’m not some geezer. I’m a young guy, this shouldn’t be hanging on to me, I should be fine!” Sousuke rages. He paces the kitchen, running his hand through his hair and making it stick up at odd angles. “I work out, I eat right, I take my fucking medication, I do everything they tell me to do, and I’m _still_ \--!”

Sousuke rears back like he’s going to punch the wall, but he stops himself, glaring at it instead.

“I don’t want to bust a hole in the plaster if we’re going to move,” he says bitterly. Makoto can’t help it, he giggles quietly. Sousuke looks at him over his shoulder. “What are _you_ laughing at?”

“Mm, it’s nothing. I just thought it was very mature of you to not punch a wall,” Makoto teases. Sousuke stares at him for a moment before chuckling softly and shaking his head. He reaches out to touch the wall where he had been planning to bust a hole in it.

“Mature. Whatever.”

“I think you’re very strong. To go through this twice, I mean. I admire that about you a lot,” Makoto says quietly. Sousuke turns to face him fully and he continues, “It must be really hard. I wish I could do something.”

“Having someone listen to me throw a tantrum helps,” Sousuke says flatly. “Haruka kept making water analogies and I almost busted a hole in his _face_ instead of the wall.”

“Haru doesn’t understand you like I do.”

Sousuke smiles a little at that, coming closer. Makoto pulls him into an embrace, supporting Sousuke’s bad arm with a steady hand under his bicep.

“I love you,” Makoto murmurs in his ear. Sousuke melts against him, moving forward to press Makoto’s hips against the counter.

“Mm. Love you too. Missed you.”

Makoto holds Sousuke to him, rubbing his back and swaying back and forth with him. Sousuke is heavy against him, a body of warm muscle, and Makoto enjoys the comfort of his weight pressing against his body.

“Remember when I went to Iwatobi with you and we lost our virginity in a tent?”

Makoto doesn’t expect the question and bursts into laughter, squeezing Sousuke.

“Of course I remember!” he giggles. Sousuke laughs quietly, his breath fanning over the nape of Makoto’s neck.

“Do you miss when things were that easy?” he asks, his voice a little quieter. Makoto pulls his head back to look Sousuke in the eye, still smiling as he gives him a puzzled look.

“Hm?”

“Like... when things were still bad. When you were at Fuyumi’s,” Sousuke says. He straightens a little so he’s the one holding Makoto instead, his right arm warm and strong around his waist. “I don’t know, maybe I’m being an idiot. Rin just said that I was missing our honeymoon stage.”

“I missed it when we weren’t fighting, yes,” Makoto says. “But... I’d rather not dwell on it. If I’m too busy thinking about us back then, I won’t be able to enjoy us now. Right?”

“Yeah,” Sousuke agrees, his voice warm and fond. He cups Makoto’s cheek in his hand, looking reverent for a moment before his face breaks into a grin. “You have to admit, though, it was fun when our biggest problem was my dick not getting hard.”

Makoto laughs, burying his face in the crook of Sousuke’s neck and nuzzling.

“Jeez. I physically can’t stay mad around you,” Sousuke says. He takes Makoto’s chin in his hand and lifts his head to look at his smiling face, his thumb ghosting over his lips.

“I think you’re just always mad,” Makoto says around Sousuke’s thumb. Sousuke hooks his thumb on his bottom teeth and silences him.

“Shut your mouth.”

Makoto nips at the tip of his thumb, and that’s all it takes for Sousuke to pull his face forward and kiss him again, nibbling at his lips as he does.

“Can we forget about my shoulder?” Sousuke whispers when he pulls away. “I don’t want to think about it right now.”

“Okay,” Makoto agrees. Sousuke smiles at him very lightly, cupping both of his hands around Makoto’s neck and massaging the column of his throat. Humming, Makoto reaches up to hook his fingers on his wrists, letting Sousuke sway with him from side to side. He manipulates his breath ever so slightly, reminding him of their first real kiss, and Makoto lets his eyes fall shut as he relaxes in Sousuke’s hands and lets him squeeze.

“I never got the appeal of this,” Sousuke suddenly comments, loosening his hold. Makoto’s eyelids flutter open. He looks up at Sousuke with a glazed-over expression, the beginnings of a flush of arousal coming to his cheeks.

“Of what?”

“Of… squeezing your neck like this,” Sousuke says hesitantly. “It’s okay with you?”

“Mmhm.”

“You like it?”

“Yes.”

“I’m always worried I’ll crush your neck or something,” Sousuke says with a grimace. “I know you want me to do it harder, I just--”

“It’s okay,” Makoto soothes, squeezing Sousuke’s wrists. “It’s fine. I won’t break.”

Sousuke’s tongue flicks over his lips as he gives a small, almost timid nod. He squeezes again, increasing the pressure until Makoto’s eyes start to shut and his lips naturally fall open. A small sound escapes the back of his throat, a helpless hiccupping sound, and Sousuke curses softly under his breath. He releases the pressure, letting Makoto draw in a deep breath.

“Okay. I guess I can see why you like it so much.”

Makoto’s dazed face breaks as he giggles, swaying forward to bump his forehead against Sousuke’s .

“I just trust you,” he murmurs. Sousuke swallows audibly, rubbing Makoto’s neck now instead of squeezing it. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“You know that isn’t true,” Sousuke contradicts with a look on his face. “I’ve been doing nothing but hurting you these past few weeks.”

“Hurting each other,” Makoto corrects. “This is different.”

“If you say so. Do… you want to take this to the bedroom?”

Makoto nods once and Sousuke takes him by the hand, guiding him out of the kitchen and down the hallway. Makoto follows in a bit of a daze, happy to be home and happy to be holding Sousuke’s hand again. He has just enough sense to close the door once they get to the bedroom, but he barely has time to turn around before Sousuke is pulling him close by the waist and kissing him breathless. The room is dark, no light coming in save for the dim light of dusk coming in through the window.

“You taste like pineapple,” Sousuke groans as he pulls away and makes a face. Makoto grins sheepishly.

“Sorry.”

“I wasn’t saying--... there’s no need to be sorry. You wanna get cleaned up before we go any further?”

Makoto nods and Sousuke looks relieved as they gently separate from each other.

“Cool. Uh… I don’t know if you feel like having sex, but who’s on top and who’s on bottom?” Sousuke asks. As Makoto sits down on the edge of the bed, he blushes and thinks about it.

“I don’t think I can be on top anymore,” he finally says, smiling reflexively as he scratches his cheek. “I mean… I’m not… you’re just…”

“What are you saying?”

“You’re… a lot bigger than me,” Makoto finally says. He glances down at his body--deflated, out of energy, weak; the product of too many weeks gone without exercise. He then turns his attention to Sousuke, and can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy at the sight of his well-toned muscles. Even with his shoulder injury, he still finds time to keep himself perfectly in shape. Makoto continues, disheartened, “I just… I’m just embarrassed. I know it must be annoying to hear it over and over again.”

“It’s not annoying,” Sousuke says without hesitation. He takes a breath, glancing away. “It does upset me, though. I don’t really get why you feel that way. I don’t know if I should be offended that you think stuff like that matters.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you!” Makoto frets, a cold weight settling in his chest. “I’m so sorry--”

“I know I shouldn’t be offended,” Sousuke interrupts him. “It’s not you. I’m just pissed, because I don’t know if it’s something I said or did that made you think that it matters how ‘in shape’ you are. I know I get stupidly intense about exercising and I want to punch myself in the face for pressuring you to come to the gym with me. I don’t want you to think that it’s required for me to love you.”

Sousuke’s voice halts at the end and he wrinkles his nose, his cheeks turning pink as he shoves his hands in his pockets and purses his lips.

“Or… something like that,” he tacks on. Makoto laughs softly and Sousuke hunches his shoulders. “Shut it. I’m just _saying_.”

“Sorry,” Makoto apologizes gently. “Thank you for telling me that.”

“I still think health is… important, and stuff,” Sousuke says carefully. “Don’t get me wrong. But I know you’ve been dealing with a lot of stuff up here, too.”

Sousuke reaches up to tap his head.

“...And I get it. I really do, because I deal with my own shit every day and it’s annoying as hell. There’s a barrier there, in my head. You know that.”

Makoto nods and Sousuke thins his lips as he averts his eyes.

“A long time ago, you told me that you couldn’t break down the wall in my head, but you could help me climb over it,” Sousuke recites. He pauses to swallow. “Back then I thought it was kinda funny. Maybe stupid. I laughed, ‘cuz it was such a weird thing to say. But it stuck with me all this time. And it made me think. So when I saw you upset and depressed over something like the sun coming out, I knew it was just as serious as my anxiety. And to other people, yeah, maybe it’s stupid. To other people, my anxiety over hospitals and doctors and shit is stupid and doesn’t deserve attention. But I get it. I get that there’s a wall in your head that you can’t just break down because some ‘normal’ person tells you that the sun will come out tomorrow.”

Sousuke’s voice rises until he stops himself and reels back his anger, taking a deep breath as he rolls his eyes.

“...I don’t know if anyone told you that. I’m just _saying_ , I’ve heard the phrase ‘it’s just mind over matter’ twenty million times. I know I can’t just _tell_ you that warm weather is going to come back and make everything okay. I get it now that I can’t just _tell_ you to exercise and it’ll make you feel better. The point is, your mental health comes before anything else. Going to the gym, getting in shape, all that stuff? It can wait until your… brain is a little healthier, or whatever,” he says, gesturing to his forehead and waving his hand dismissively. “And I’ll be completely honest here. It sounds stupid as hell, but I really mean it. No one is more attractive to me than you are, no matter what you look like. Hell, I thought you were cute when you had snot dripping out of your nose when you had the cold earlier this winter.”

“Yuck,” Makoto laughs. Sousuke, looking relieved to stop talking for a second, grins.

“But seriously, bringing this back to what you said. I get that you’re not being lazy. And even if you were, the amount of hours you spend at the gym doesn’t make me love you any more or less. I am just as attracted to you now as I was when you were ripped as fuck.”

“Thank you,” Makoto sighs, finally feeling the weight on his shoulders lift away as he gives Sousuke a teary smile.

“Don’t feel like you have to feel better for me. Do it for you,” Sousuke adds. “And… ‘I can’t break down that wall in your head, but I can help you climb it.’ Right?”

“Right,” Makoto says, somewhat brokenly. Sousuke holds out his hand and Makoto accepts it, getting to his feet.

“Can we _please_ get cleaned up now? I want to use my mouth for something other than talking,” Sousuke drawls. Makoto bursts into laughter, following Sousuke out of the bedroom towards the bathroom.

“Yes, yes.”

\---

Sousuke is like a furnace when he’s fresh out of the shower, his muscles and skin clinging to the heat like his life depends on it. Makoto doesn’t have any complaints, especially when the weather outside is so cold. They’re on their sides under the covers, shirtless and still damp from their showers. Of course, Sousuke’s shirt has taken its rightful place draped over the lampshade on the bedside table. As they kiss, Makoto lets his hands wander all over Sousuke’s torso; he flits his fingers over his forearm and bicep; Sousuke flexes when his fingers pass over, making him laugh into his mouth. He traces the ridge of his collarbone and down the middle of his sternum, his fingers splaying over his ribs. Sousuke shudders and pulls away with a wet _pop_.

“That tickles.”

“Mm, sorry,” Makoto apologizes softly. He kisses Sousuke again and returns to tracing the cords of his muscles, trailing down from his sternum to his abs. He touches each one, counting them silently; three, four, five, six. Envy wells up in him, but then Sousuke is touching him, too, his hands smoothing up and down Makoto’s flat belly. Warmth seeps into Makoto’s skin from Sousuke’s palm, and all feelings of jealousy rush out of him. He moans softly against Sousuke’s lips, shifting his body closer as Sousuke drapes his arm over the soft curve of his waist.

“Hn. I kinda like your body like this,” Sousuke suddenly says, half of his words smothered by Makoto’s lips before he pulls away. “You’re soft.”

“As soon as spring comes, I’m going to be just as big as you again,” Makoto hums, smiling and tipping his head back as Sousuke buries his face in his neck. “Just wait.”

“I have enough muscle for both of us.”

Makoto smacks Sousuke just under his shoulder blade and he laughs.

“I’m kidding!”

“And I’m serious,” Makoto says. “Will you help me get back in shape?”

“Of course. Do you want me to be a ‘doting boyfriend’ coach or a ‘gym teacher who takes his job too seriously’ coach?”

“How about a regular coach?”

Sousuke moves without warning, pushing himself up so he’s hovering over Makoto, his hands planted on either side of his head. The covers slip down his back, letting in the light. For the first time, Makoto can see Sousuke’s flushed face and his blown pupils. Makoto’s sure he looks the same.

“I could do shit like kiss you every ten sit-ups while I spot you,” Sousuke suggests. “ _Or_ I could step on your back while you do fifty pushups. I could make you bench press me.”

“You’re like two hundred pounds,” Makoto whines. Sousuke gives him a cocky grin.

“I’m a nice and even hundred seventy five pounds, thank you very much. You could do it. I’ve seen you bench over two hundred.”

“Yeah,” Makoto sighs wistfully. “But I’m so far behind, it’ll take forever to get that power back.”

“Not with protein and weightlifting,” Sousuke suggests. Grinning, he leans in to Makoto’s ear and breathes softly against it, the warm air fanning over his skin and making him shudder. “Sex builds muscle, too.”

Makoto laughs, shying away from Sousuke’s tickling breath.

“I’m going to feed you nothing but eggs and protein powder for the next month,” Sousuke threatens. Makoto pushes at Sousuke, trying and failing to wrestle him off.

“Ew!”

He accidentally smacks Sousuke in the face, but Sousuke just laughs and grabs at Makoto’s flailing arms, trying to pin them down. When he finally catches them, he presses them against the mattress above Makoto’s head and leans down to kiss him breathless. Their stuttering laughter melts into silence, until there’s nothing left but the sound of their lips moving together. Sousuke makes the first move, his cool fingers sliding along Makoto’s warm sides. His skin, unprepared for the cold, cringes away from Sousuke’s wandering hand.

“Sorry,” Sousuke murmurs softly, squeezing his fist for a moment to warm up his fingers. “It’ll warm up.”

Sousuke settles his weight on top of him, moving his body down a little so his head is tucked under Makoto’s chin. His waist nestles comfortably between Makoto’s legs, the curves of his body offering a nice place to squeeze with his thighs. Sousuke’s hands slide farther and farther up Makoto’s chest. His hands cup his pecs, thumb tracing along the soft underside and his fingertips tapping rhythmically against his nipple.

“Want to top? Or me? You never really answered the question the first time,” Sousuke murmurs, lifting his head for only a moment to look Makoto in the eyes.

“Mmn,” Makoto hums. His voice is somewhat strained as a pleasant warmth starts building pressure in the pit of his stomach. “Let’s just…”

“Go with the flow?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah,” Sousuke agrees. “Pants?”

“Off,” Makoto huffs, his voice coming out in a small blurt of laughter that has Sousuke chuckling as he pushes up off Makoto to unbuckle his belt. However, he falters a tad as he does, wincing and making a reflexive move towards his right shoulder. Makoto frowns. “Does it hurt?”

“It’s fine,” he says. “It’s… just the cold, making it act up.”

“I don’t want you making it hurt anymore,” Makoto presses. “Here, how about… we…”

He sits up and shifts. Sousuke, though confused, lets Makoto gently guide him down onto his back on the bed. When he’s settled comfortably on his back, Makoto works at his pants and boxers down and eases them to his ankles. Once Sousuke’s jeans and boxers are out of the picture, Makoto takes a look at him and runs his fingers over the muscles of his thighs.

“So… I’m bottom, then?” Sousuke asks, his voice thicker than usual. Makoto glances back at him, smiling and getting to work on his own pants.

“Do you want to be?”

“Damn it, Tachibana, all I care about right now is using something other than my hand to get myself off tonight,” Sousuke grumbles. As Makoto stands to take his pants off, he bursts out laughing and nearly trips over his own jeans, stumbling slightly.

“So you’ve been doing this alone?” Makoto asks teasingly. The heavy blush on his cheeks betrays his wit and makes Sousuke smirk.

“As if you haven’t. Rin told me that he and Fuyumi bought you a gay porn book.”

Makoto’s entire face turns cherry red as he flops down naked at the edge of the bed, staring at Sousuke with wide eyes. Sousuke just looks smug, his eyes flicking down to Makoto’s chest.

“Did you know your nipples blush?”

Makoto slaps his arms over his chest as Sousuke laughs.

“Did he seriously tell you?!” Makoto squeals.

“It was part of his lecture on why I should come running to get you back. He said you were horny.”

“I can’t _believe--_ ”

“He was just as embarrassed. It was cute. I think Haruka made a comment and Rin just about attacked him. And then he challenged Haruka to a race, and… you can imagine how that all went down.”

“Did they race?”

“Haruka said he doesn’t race people who buy his friends trashy novels.”

“It’s not _trashy_ ,” Makoto huffs. “And it’s not _porn_.”

“What, it’s sophisticated?” Sousuke asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Makoto frowns and Sousuke sits up with a grunt. His ab muscles tighten when he does, making Makoto’s ears burn as he hurriedly averts his eyes. Sousuke murmurs, “I was kidding, you know.”

“I know,” Makoto sighs. He feels Sousuke’s warm fingers tickling at the downy hair at the nape of his neck, making him shiver and roll his head to the side to let Sousuke touch him more.

“Did you think of me a lot?”

“Y-Yeah…”

“I thought about you every night,” Sousuke admits softly. He pulls Makoto closer, draping his arm around his neck and bringing his ear straight to his lips. “I wanted you so bad.”

Makoto whimpers, overwhelmed by the heat in his voice, and doesn’t resist when Sousuke takes his hand and pulls it back. He guides his hand to his cock and pulls Makoto’s fingertips up from the base to the tip. Makoto bites his lip and flushes; it’s been weeks since he’s touched his boyfriend, but the weight and the shape of his cock is embarrassingly familiar in his hand.

His humiliation is quickly forgotten, however, at the very soft sound that falls from Sousuke’s lips. A sigh and a moan at the same time; it sounds like relief and need. Makoto turns to look at his face as he touches him, and is met with closed eyes and parted lips. Carefully, Makoto maneuvers Sousuke so he’s down on his back again, stroking him as he goes. Sousuke drapes an arm over his eyes, taking long, deep breaths and shuddering each time Makoto squeezes a certain way or massages the head with his thumb. When he’s fully hard, Makoto stops and crawls on top of Sousuke’s thighs, straddling them.

“I’m fine either way,” Sousuke suddenly says, letting his arm fall away from his eyes. He’s still panting slightly as he licks his lips and glances down at his erection. “I washed everything.”

“Me too,” Makoto says. Sousuke makes a face and lifts his hands questioningly, like he’s about to have a throwdown, but Makoto smacks his hands and laughs, “I’ll bottom.”

“Well, I can’t do much on my back, unless you’re planning on--” Sousuke stops, the gears of his brain turning, before he looks up with such genuine excitement it makes Makoto laugh again. Sousuke realizes what face he’s making and immediately scowls, embarrassed. Makoto just beams down at him. “Wipe that shitty smirk off your face. We’ve never done this before, okay?”

“I’m excited, too,” Makoto says gently. Sousuke pinches his lips together and nods, reaching down to settle his hand on Makoto’s thigh.

“Just be careful. And I don’t know if we’ve got enough lube left, I’ve… been, uh… using it.”

“No lube?” Makoto asks, his heart sinking as he moves off of Sousuke to crawl towards the bedside table. He opens the first drawer and swats aside a few empty condom wrappers and grabs a well-squeezed lube bottle. It feels light in his hand. “Oh, come on.”

“Man, I didn’t think I’d have you home tonight. I was just gonna use lotion or something.”

“I thought you said lotion was bad for your butt,” Makoto says, glancing over his shoulder as he smacks the cap of the lube bottle against his hand. Sousuke grimaces.

“Well _yeah,_ but _\--_ ”

“It’s fine,” Makoto interrupts him. “I mean… there’s more, but it’s the scented one you hate. And… it’s pretty old now. I kinda don’t want to use it.”

Sousuke groans.

“Of all the days. God damn it.”

“You know I don’t mind if it hurts a little,” Makoto suggests. Sousuke falls silent, his jaw tightened as he thinks hard about it. “We can buy more some other time.”

“How much is left?” Sousuke asks after a long pause.

“I think it’s enough,” Makoto says. He hands the bottle over and Sousuke weighs it in his hand and sighs.

“This… I mean… it’d help if I could do something to help you relax,” Sousuke says hesitantly. He runs his tongue nervously over his lips. “You… washed everything, right?”

“Of course.”

Sousuke takes a breath like he’s going to say something, stops, and tries again with a somewhat strained voice;

“You… like rimming, right?”

Makoto blushes and shrugs helplessly.

“I… well… yes,” he mumbles. Hunching his shoulders, Makoto taps his fingers nervously on his knees.

“I haven’t done it before, but I can learn it now,” Sousuke says with a hint of reluctance. Makoto smiles warmly.

“You don’t have to. I know it’s gross to you.”

“It’s not that. I just… I don’t know, I guess I’ve never wanted to lick an asshole before?” Sousuke tries. “You love it. What is it like?”

“I don’t do it for me, I do it for you,” Makoto says quietly. “I love the sounds you make. I love making you feel good. That’s why I like it so much.”

“So it _isn’t_ because my ass tastes like sugar?” Sousuke asks. “You sure eat it like it does.”

“Sousuke,” Makoto whines. Sousuke reaches out to pinch his thigh.

“C’mon. Get in a comfortable position. I’ll do it.”

Makoto squirms but obeys, slowly getting onto his hands and knees on the bed. He feels Sousuke sit up behind him, then a strong hand on his back carefully pushing him down until he’s resting his cheek against the sheets. His hand slides down to his ass, squeezing experimentally and spreading his cheeks. As Makoto’s breath comes out in short little puffs, he clenches his fists and buries his face in the bedsheets.

His tongue is hesitant, starting just above his balls and working his way back towards his hole. By the time he gets there, Makoto is already whimpering and his hips are trembling. He pushes his ass up a little higher, silently begging for Sousuke to get on with it. Sousuke still seems apprehensive, kissing at the sensitive skin around his hole but not getting much closer. Just when Makoto is about to voice his impatience, Sousuke finally runs the flat of his tongue over Makoto’s hole. He gasps loudly, his hips bucking forward and his body giving a great shudder.

Sousuke does it again, slower this time, dragging his tongue over it and blowing cool air over it until Makoto mewls.

“Am I doing it right? I mean… you’re way better, I know,” Sousuke says. Makoto can feel the breath from his voice fanning over his damp skin, making his cock jump between his legs.

“I-I… n-n-no, you’re just fine,” Makoto stammers. He rocks his hips a little, eager to continue.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, but you… I mean--”

“It just tastes like skin,” Sousuke assures him. He pats his ass a little and massages the backs of his thighs. “Relax.”

Makoto obeys, quietly taking deep breaths and closing his eyes as Sousuke gets to work. His licks are still cautious and slow, but get increasingly bold as he continues. Despite his lack of experience, he’s good at it--he seems to know what to do based on the few times Makoto has done it to him. His jaw moves forcefully and his lips kiss and pinch every inch of it until it’s red and swollen and puckered. Makoto, now thoroughly aroused, moans Sousuke’s name like a prayer, his breath coming out in high-pitched sighs.

When Sousuke pulls away, he replaces his tongue with his finger, gently massaging Makoto’s hole until he loosens up. However, the saliva is quick to dry. Makoto whines incoherently, wanting Sousuke to go on, but Sousuke swats the back of his thigh.

“I’m not going to try using my spit as lube,” Sousuke says. “It’ll tear your ass.”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

Another swat. Makoto’s back arches and he moans into the sheets, prompting another gentle slap against his other thigh. Sousuke laughs softly.

“Why do you like pain?” he asks. Makoto looks over his shoulder just in time to see Sousuke bury his face in his ass again, eyes closed and hands massaging.

“Um… I just… I like…” Makoto struggles. He bites his wrist as Sousuke sinks his tongue inside of him and works it in and out at a snail’s pace. “Hnng--”

“Feels good?” Sousuke asks.

“Don’t stop!”

Sousuke laughs and returns to work, one hand wrapping around Makoto’s hips and stroking his cock as it drips precum all over the bed.

“ _Sousuke_ ,” Makoto whines. “I need--”

“Yeah,” Sousuke agrees, panting slightly as he pulls away. Makoto falls onto his side, biting his lip as his asshole twitches and throbs. “That was… actually… pretty nice. I can see why you like it. Love your voice.”

Sousuke grins and leans down to kiss Makoto’s hipbone. Dazed, Makoto reaches for his face, holding his cheek for a moment before trying to pull him closer.

“I just had my tongue in your ass,” Sousuke warns.

“Don’t care.”

He kisses him hungrily, rolling both of them onto their sides and hooking one of his legs over Sousuke’s hip. They almost lose themselves in their kisses, but a grunt from Sousuke has Makoto pulling away.

“Hmm?”

“Lube bottle’s digging into my back,” Sousuke says. He rolls onto his back and digs out the bottle, handing it up to Makoto. “Are we just gonna use this?”

“Yeah. I’ll be fine,” Makoto assures him. He pushes himself up so he’s straddling Sousuke again, sitting back on his thighs as he pops the lube bottle open and squeezes out a dollop onto his first two fingers.

“Careful. Don’t spill it,” Sousuke murmurs. He rests his hand on Makoto’s thigh, rubbing tenderly as he watches Makoto shake the bottle to get the last few squeezes out of it. “Shit, are you sure that’s going to be enough?”

“It’s _okay_ , Sousuke,” Makoto laughs. When the bottle is empty, he drops it on the bed and carefully reaches between his legs and slathers it over his hole. “The condoms have lube on them too, you know.”

“Yeah…” Sousuke hums, still looking worried. With one last gentle pat on Makoto’s thigh, he stretches to reach for the bedside drawer. With a bit of a struggle, he manages to open the top drawer and fish out the box of condoms.

“Can we try it without a condom sometime?” Makoto asks, a little breathless as he works himself open. “Please?”

“Not until we get checked,” Sousuke says absently as he inspects a condom.

“But we’ve… hnn. We’ve only had sex with each other.”

“What if my parents passed something to me? What if your parents did? C’mon. Health 101, man,” Sousuke lectures. Makoto huffs but continues fingering himself, his cheeks growing warmer and warmer and his body quivering uncontrollably. Sousuke grins, “Didn’t know you wanted my cum so bad, though.”

“Yes,” Makoto pants. “I really--”

He gasps sharply as Sousuke reaches down and helps Makoto move his hand, guiding the back and forth motion.

“Only two fingers?” Sousuke asks.

“It’s o-okay. I’m… mm, ready.”

“God damnit. If I hurt you, I’ll never forgive myself.”

Makoto resists the urge to tell Sousuke that he wants it to hurt, he wants it to sting and ache, because then maybe he’ll be able to forgive himself for the past two weeks. He stays quiet, watching Sousuke roll his condom on and breathing shallowly. Slipping his fingers out of himself, he rocks his hips forward, positioning himself over Sousuke’s cock and taking deep breaths to compare himself. Sousuke holds his thighs to keep him steady, his own breathing labored and his fingers trembling.

It burns--there certainly isn’t enough lube for it to be a completely painless experience, but Makoto sinks down on top of it anyway, moving slowly and basking in the burn with every inch he takes. With his head tipped back, he lets himself fall the last two inches, making both of them cry out simultaneously. Sousuke’s nails dig into the tops of Makoto’s thighs, and he presses his head harder into his pillow.

“Holy shit,” Sousuke hisses. His hands make grasping motions as if he doesn’t know what to hold onto. He settles with knotting the sheets in his hands and pulling hard enough to make his knuckles turn white. Makoto can see his shoulders flexing and reaches out to touch his arms.

“Careful,” he breathes, rubbing Sousuke’s wrists and forcing his arms to relax.

“It’s tight. Are you sure this is okay?” Sousuke asks urgently. “I’ll stop right now if it’s too much. I won’t--”

“I’m okay,” Makoto whispers. Sousuke frowns, but the muscles in his neck relax and he splays his fingers over Makoto’s knees.

“I’ve done enough,” Sousuke admits. He inhales sharply as Makoto starts a slow roll of his hips, the pads of his fingers sinking into Makoto’s soft thighs.

“I hurt you, too,” Makoto sighs. He puts his hands over Sousuke’s, squeezing tightly. He pauses his movement. “Did you cry?”

“Like a little bitch,” Sousuke mumbles. “I cried like I did when I gave up swimming. I didn’t even know I could cry like that anymore.”

“I’m sorry.”

Sousuke shuts his eyes and reaches back to cup Makoto’s ass, helping him grind against him and groaning softly. When he opens his eyes again, they’re dark and glazed over. Maybe a little misty.

“I’m sorry,” Makoto repeats, softer. He squeezes Sousuke’s hands in his.

“Stop apologizing,” Sousuke croaks. He rolls his eyes as they tear up more, cursing under his breath. “God. I missed you. Sorry I keep… fuck…”

“You can cry,” Makoto soothes. He leans down, bracing himself with his hands on Sousuke’s chest. Sousuke lets out a strangled sound, his fingers digging into the mattress again as he arches his back. Tears form in the corners of his eyes and drip down to the shells of his ears. Any embarrassment he may feel is drowned out by the pleasure written on his face. Makoto quickens his pace, already too far gone; they won’t last long at all.

Sure enough, Sousuke starts to breathe erratically, grabbing roughly at Makoto’s hips and tensing his legs as he shoves up into him. Makoto meets every thrust as best as he can. Sousuke mutters something Makoto can’t really hear, and he moans in reply. His toes curl and he hunches over, nails raking down Sousuke’s chest and his thigh muscles burning like they’ve been set on fire.

Sousuke cums first, his voice bursting out in a short, hoarse yell. His head snaps up as his body tries to fold in on itself, and he holds the position for a few seconds before falling limp on the pillow. Makoto helps him ride out his orgasm, grinding until his cock is too soft to stay inside of him. Through the haze of the afterglow, Sousuke tiredly reaches out for Makoto’s cock, bringing him to a messy and quick climax that forces a sharp yelp out of his mouth.

With a sigh, Makoto falls over and lands at Sousuke’s side, his dick still twitching weakly against his hip. Sousuke touches it idly, stroking it until it’s soft in his hand. He almost falls asleep like that, but Makoto shifts and tucks a leg over one of Sousuke’s and takes a long, deep breath.

“Sorry I lasted like thirty seconds,” Sousuke mutters, his voice thick with exhaustion. Makoto laughs and reaches behind him for the blanket, which he pulls over his and Sousuke’s cooling bodies.

“It felt longer than that.”

“No, it was definitely like two seconds before I blew my load. Also, is the condom still on me or is it lost in your ass somewhere?”

Makoto bursts into giggles, lifting his head and shoving the blankets back so he can inspect Sousuke’s dick. The condom is still there, slid halfway off his shaft and making a mess of his inner thighs. Sousuke grimaces at it.

“Nice,” he says dryly. Makoto gently pulls it off and reaches behind him to deposit it in the wadded tissue-filled wastebasket next to the bed. Sousuke takes a breath, “How are you doing?”

“My butt’s gonna hurt a little bit tomorrow,” Makoto says, reaching back to rub at his asscheek and pouting slightly. Sousuke gives him a crooked smirk.

“Would you say I wrecked your ass?”

“Sousuke, please,” Makoto mumbles, bowing his head as he blushes to the tips of his ears. “That’s…”

“It was obviously a joke,” Sousuke laughs. “You were too hot. My dick just couldn’t handle it.”

Makoto drops his face into the crook of Sousuke’s neck as the back of his neck sweats with embarrassment.

“I’m trying to cover up for crying like a dipshit. Humor me, for the love of god.”

“Your tears looked like starlight,” Makoto deadpans, his voice muffled. Sousuke bursts into laughter.

“Ah, shit,” he huffs when he recovers, reaching up to wipe at his eyes. “I love you so goddamn much.”

“Me too,” Makoto says, lifting his head. “I love you, too.”

Sousuke smiles, softer this time, and reaches up to caress Makoto’s cheek. Makoto leans into his palm and smiles back down at him.

“You’re great,” Sousuke sighs. “Marry me.”

Makoto’s throat dries as his lips fall open. Sousuke seems to realize what he’s said at the same time, his hand stopping on Makoto’s face.

“Wait…” he trails off. He scrambles to cover his tracks, his cheeks starting to turn bright red. “I didn’t… it kinda just slipped out. I was just joking."

Makoto just smiles and kisses his palm.

“You’re so cute, Sousuke.”

Sousuke groans and slaps his hand over his eyes, refusing to move his hand even when Makoto tugs at his fingers.

“It’s _okay!_ ” Makoto laughs.

“If you tell Haruka, you’re dead,” Sousuke grumbles.

“I won’t.”

“Ugh, why do I even bother? He’ll figure it out anyway.”

“Probably.”

Sousuke finally drops his hand from his eyes and scowls up at Makoto.

“Sorry for saying something so stupid.”

“I didn’t think it was stupid,” Makoto whispers. He leans down to kiss Sousuke’s cheek and settles against him. “I almost… hoped you were serious, actually.”

Sousuke remains silent, instead reaching up to run his hand through Makoto’s hair, letting the silky locks fall through his fingers. He pets Makoto like that for some time, until he feels sleep starting to pull at the corners of his conscious. As he drifts, he feels Sousuke shift to turn off the bedside light and pull the covers up snugly around them.

Right before he falls asleep, he swears he hears Sousuke whisper ‘next time’.

**END OF PART THREE**

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***Art credit goes to [Yukinugget on tumblr.](http://yukinugget.tumblr.com/)  
> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friends [Diana](http://coronaampora.tumblr.com) and [Nicole](http://syniio.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](http://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](http://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](http://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](http://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	51. Chapter 51

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, this chapter took forever, but it's a long one. Please enjoy. I'm sorry it took so long yet again. Midterms really got to me, and I stumbled quite a bit in anatomy and managed to almost fail one of my exams (64%). It took me down to an 85% total in the class, but my professor told me that I will be able to bounce back to an A if I really apply myself. I've been very stressed. Watching a lot of Steven Universe. Luckily, spring break was enjoyable and I've been able to hang out with my family and decompress from a very, very stressful first half of the semester.

**INTERMISSION THREE**

**DECEMBER, 2016**

Haru returns from swimming at two in the morning, and walks in on Makoto pacing back and forth in the kitchen. He jumps when he comes around the corner, but he’s quick to compose himself.

“Why are you awake?” Haru asks. Makoto comes to a stop and shrugs.

“I just wanted to make sure you got home safe,” he says warmly, smiling. “Thank you for giving us some time alone.”

“I understand,” Haru says, looking away and gazing blankly at the kitchen sink. “Is everything better?”

“Yeah,” Makoto assures him. As Haru comes closer, he reaches out to put his hand on his shoulder, rubbing it a little before moving up to touch his face. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t thank me,” Haru mutters. He leans against Makoto’s hand, but only for a brief second before he shies away from it. “I... wanted to ask you something.”

“Mm?”

“What am I to you?” Haru asks quietly. “You said you felt the same, and...”

“Did it mean that you wanted something like what Rei, Gou, and Nagisa have?” Makoto asks. Haru makes a face.

“No. Not like that. That’s... unsteady. Rin said it’s been on-again, off-again, with Rei in America. Messy,” Haru explains. He averts his eyes again, crossing his arms and tapping his pinky on his elbow. “But...”

“Something like it?”

“No sex. No romantic feelings,” Haru says, waving his hand dismissively. Makoto smiles a little.

“I can do that. But... Haru, how do you feel about Sousuke?” he asks. Haru tilts his head from side to side, still not looking Makoto in the eye.

“Well,” he begins, his voice quiet. “I think he’s a good person.”

“And?”

Haru lets out a short huff and Makoto laughs, almost letting him off the hook, but Haru steels himself and meets his gaze.

“I like him,” he admits. “Like I like you. Not... as _long_ as I’ve liked you.”

“Time doesn’t matter?”

“No,” Haru says. “Well... I guess time kind of mattered with us, but...”

“I understand,” Makoto saves him from explaining it, and Haru looks thoroughly relieved.

“I want to be closer to him, too.”

“Well, you should know that talking about water when he’s upset doesn’t help,” Makoto teases. He giggles at Haru’s offended face. “But he appreciates it when you try. He has a quick temper, but if you let him burn himself out, he calms down. He doesn’t like being touched when he’s angry, but he’ll never, ever hit anyone. He might threaten to punch a wall, though.”

Haru stares at Makoto curiously.

“I was right. He is a beast,” he sighs.

“He’s like a big dog,” Makoto corrects. “Like a pit bull. Scary on the outside. But actually very soft and sweet on the inside.”

“I’m glad you’re in love with a pit bull,” Haru deadpans. Makoto bursts out laughing and Haru gives him a small smile in return. “But... doesn’t it bother you?”

“Hm?”

“You have all these ways of dealing with him,” Haru mutters. “So... you’re tiptoeing?”

“I have a way with dealing with you, too.”

Haru pinches his lips together, pouting. Makoto just grins.

“I deal with those things because I love you guys. It’s part of who you are. If I couldn’t accept that, then why would I be with him? Or you?” Makoto asks. Haru hums, thoughtful. Makoto takes a short breath, “We make compromises because we love each other. Sousuke’s not poetic, but he will talk to me and hold me until I feel better. And... it’s really hard for me not to hug him when he’s angry! We both had to adapt.”

“Oh,” Haru says, looking pleasantly surprised. “I thought it was just one-sided.”

“No. Maybe when we were younger, but not now.”

Haru is silent for a long while, thinking. Makoto lets him think, letting his mind wander to Sousuke. He’s been out of bed for a while—he wonders if Sousuke woke up.

“You’ve changed a lot,” Haru suddenly says. Makoto blinks, surprised.

“I’ve changed?” Makoto asks. He smiles, tilting his head quizzically. “Is... that a bad thing?”

“No,” Haru says quickly. “In a good way. You’re... braver. Not as nervous.”

“Maybe I just grew up,” Makoto muses. “My parents said university will do it to you. I guess Iwatobi was too small for me to really grow up.”

“I saw you growing and it made me upset,” Haru admits. “I thought I wasn’t. I thought I was being left behind. I thought--”

“You’ve changed, too,” Makoto assures him. He reaches out to pat his shoulder. “I think you’ve grown up a lot. Sousuke, too. And Rin, and Rei, and Nagisa, and Gou.”

Haru looks relieved and at peace with his words. He nods once.

“Okay.”

“...But... I’m going to be student teaching next year,” Makoto says. “It’ll be my last year at school. I’m a little nervous.”

“Only four years?”

“I don’t need a teaching certificate, since I’m going into coaching. I just need the degree in physical education. I’m required to take the intro course to teaching, but I don’t have to go into advanced teaching theory or anything,” Makoto explains. He pauses and laughs. “That’s what my advisors said, anyway. I don’t know if I really understand credits. All I know is that I’ll have enough to graduate in 2018.”

“What about Sousuke?”

“I... don’t know what his plans are, actually,” Makoto says, surprised. “I’ll ask, but not tonight. I think he’s a little too tired.”

As he says it, Sousuke tiredly pads around the corner, hair sticking up at every angle. He squints in the dim light of the kitchen, looking grumpy.

“You made me put clothes on,” he grumbles, voice throaty. Makoto looks down at the sweatpants he’s wearing, which are backwards and inside-out.

“Sorry, sorry. I wanted to make sure Haru made it home safe,” Makoto apologizes. Sousuke just blinks blearily at him and slouches.

“Are you coming back to bed?”

“Yes. Give me a few minutes.”

Sousuke lets out a long groan that sounds more like a whine, then turns and shuffles out of the room. Haru stares after him, his nose wrinkling slightly.

“You have sex with that?”

Makoto blushes and clears his throat, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

“W-Well... yes. He just... he gets up early, but if his sleep is interrupted, it takes at least an hour for him to actually... function.”

“Oh. He looked like a troll.”

“He is a troll, if he doesn’t get enough sleep,” Makoto sighs. “I should really get back in there. Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Haru yawns. “I’m tired.”

“Do you have enough blankets in the living room?”

“Yes.”

“I think Sousuke was serious about getting a new apartment,” Makoto hints. He smiles at Haru. “You think you’d want us as roommates?”

Haru just sniffs indifferently, but the look in his eyes says otherwise.

“Goodnight, Haru,” Makoto says. Haru gives him a nod, and only locks up a little when Makoto pets his head. He escorts Haru to the living room and makes sure he’s tucked into bed (wearing nothing but a pair of swim trunks—thankfully not the ones he was swimming in) before shutting off the lights and retiring to his bedroom.

He tries to get into bed as gently as possible to avoid waking Sousuke again, but he awakens with a start anyway before mumbling incoherently.

“It’s just me,” Makoto says softly, reaching out to sooth him with a caress of the cheek. Sousuke’s pleased hum makes him laugh.

He snuggles up close and Sousuke tucks the blanket around him before tangling their legs together and firmly locking him in for the night. Makoto doesn’t mind, and he tucks his head under Sousuke’s chin.

“Goodnight,” Makoto whispers, before shutting his eyes and drifting peacefully to sleep.

On the bedside table, his phone lights up with a text from Sato.

_[OI!!!!! IF UR DONE SEXING SOUSUKE UP COME GET UR CRAP FROM MY APARTMENT!!!!]_

 

**JANUARY 2017**

Makoto stares morosely out the window at the snow. It’s not the beautiful, pleasant kind of snow either; it’s heavy and wet, making a disgusting mess of brown and grey slush outside. And it’s only supposed to get colder tonight—which means the sidewalk will be icy tomorrow on his way to class.

He sighs, setting his elbow on the armrest of the couch and resting his chin in his palm. His limbs feel heavy. It had taken so much effort to go to class _today_ , but he’s already dreading the walk to the subway tomorrow.

“Hey.”

Makoto nearly jumps out of his skin at the sudden voice. Grabbing at his chest, he whirls to face Sousuke.  

“You scared me,” he huffs. Sousuke grins lopsidedly, shrugging and holding up a small white carryout box and a drink tray.

“You didn’t hear me come in?”

“I--... no. I didn’t hear you,” Makoto says. Sousuke frowns as Makoto glances once more at the window before turning back to him. “I thought you were at the gym.”

“I didn’t feel right leaving you here by yourself, so about halfway there I turned around and went to the donut place where Fuyumi works. I got donuts and hot chocolate... if you want some.”

“I... thank you,” Makoto whispers, his lips twitching slightly as he smiles, puzzled. “But why...?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Sousuke asks. “It’s cold out. Cold boyfriend. Alone. At home.”

“...Is this some sort of sex deal?”

Sousuke looks at him with such a painfully exasperated expression, Makoto almost feels bad for him.

“I’m not letting you sit here and wallow by yourself,” he finally says, sighing. He sets the donuts and hot chocolate down on the coffee table before leaving momentarily. When he comes back, he’s holding one of Makoto’s Happy Lights in his hand.

“Oh, Sousuke,” Makoto sighs, his brows knitting. “You don’t... you didn’t have to. I’m sorry for making it seem like I--”

“I can work out any day of the year. And besides, it’s arm day and I don’t feel like getting pissed off that my shoulder isn’t working right,” Sousuke says. He flops down on the couch beside Makoto, hands him his Happy Light, wraps a blanket from the end of the couch around his shoulders, then grabs him under the knees and yanks him closer. Makoto yelps, surprised by the sudden movement. Sousuke sets Makoto’s legs firmly in his lap and keeps them there, not allowing him to look out the window.

“Sou--!”

“Boom. Instant therapy,” Sousuke says sarcastically. Makoto falls silent as Sousuke leans forward to grab the TV remote and the donuts from the coffee table. He sets them down on Makoto’s thigh. The box is still warm.

“I... you... thank you,” Makoto mumbles. “You’re... you’re so nice, but...”

“I won’t judge you if you want to get real therapy,” Sousuke says quietly. He rubs Makoto’s calves up and down, and the blessed warmth soaks through his jeans and into his bones like medicine. He hums softly, struggling not to relax into his touches.

“I thought about talking to a counselor, maybe,” Makoto says. “But it’s hard not to be a little embarrassed. I mean...”

“If you go, I’ll go with you.”

“Huh?”

“You don’t have to go alone.”

Makoto stares at Sousuke, shocked, but Sousuke just shrugs and grabs one of the hot chocolates on the coffee table.

“Here. Warm up,” he says quietly. He hands over the cup and Makoto obediently snuggles into his blanket and scoots closer to his boyfriend.

“I feel bad,” Makoto admits. Sousuke looks at him quizzically. “I never spoil you like this.”

“You spoil me with kindness and I’m returning the favor. Shut up with that crap,” Sousuke lectures. Makoto falls silent, but Sousuke pets his hair. “Thank you, but I don’t need cuddles and donuts when I’m anxious.”

“What do you need, then?”

“Someone stable with their feet on the ground. That’s it.”

“Oh.”

Makoto blushes and leans in to kiss Sousuke’s cheek. He doesn’t respond with anything more than a little smile. With a content sigh, Makoto curls up against him and lets himself enjoy the warmth of his arms.

 

**FEBRUARY 2017**

“Dad, next semester I want to live in my own apartment, under my own lease.”

Iwao looks up from his meal to peer at Sousuke across the table with darkened eyes, his chopsticks still lifted partway to his mouth. Makoto clears his throat very quietly and tucks his head down to avoid the steely staring contest.

They’re in Iwao’s penthouse—Sousuke hadn’t been kidding about his lifestyle. It’s part of the office building where he works; one of the largest towers in the business districts near the campus. Makoto can see the campus buildings from the window wall of Iwao’s apartment. It’s a clean, tidy place with no pets and white carpeting and fancy furniture and spotless walls. His dining table is modern and made almost completely of glass.

“What brought this on, exactly?” Iwao asks after a long, painful silence.

“Nothing. I don’t want to impose on you any more than I have.”

“You’re not imposing whatsoever. You are my son. Of course I will provide to you anything that you need.”

“Yeah, okay,” Sousuke huffs. “But I’m also an adult, and I want to make my own financial decisions.”

“Do you understand the cost of living in Tokyo?” Iwao asks. The atmosphere grows heated as Sousuke bristles. Makoto nibbles anxiously on his chopsticks, feeling sweat start to prickle at his back with secondhand embarrassment.

“Yes, I understand the cost of living in Tokyo,” Sousuke replies in a mocking voice. “There’s going to be three of us.”

“Three? Who is this third? Miss Sato?”

“No. Nanase Haruka.”

“That boy you had so much trouble with?”

“It’s fine now.”

“And that’s it? Someone you have had nothing but negative history with? That’s who you trust?”

“Makoto trusts him!” Sousuke snaps. Makoto lets out a little squeak as Sousuke bangs his hand down on the table, afraid that the glass is going to shatter. Iwao pinches his lips together.

“Yes—Makoto, how do you feel about this?”

Makoto swallows thickly and struggles to lift his gaze to meet Iwao’s. When he does, however, he doesn’t see anger. He only sees exhaustion—the man’s shoulders are slouched, and deep bags hang under his eyes. Shocked, Makoto blinks and glances at Sousuke, wondering if he sees the same thing. But Sousuke just looks on furiously, his arms crossed over his chest. Makoto returns his attention to Iwao and wrings his hands.

“Well... you’ve supported us for so long. I’m really thankful for that,” he says quietly. “Because it let me and Sousuke focus on school. But... I also think it’s important that Sousuke is independent.”

“What matters to me is that you two graduate with good marks,” Iwao says. “I’m concerned that your part-time jobs will take priority over your grades. Son, you’re planning on going into med school, correct?”

Sousuke shifts uncomfortably. Makoto turns to him, curious. He hasn’t heard anything about Sousuke’s plans yet.

“I’m applying in the spring for the graduate program,” Sousuke says quietly. “For physical therapy. I’m starting a pre-internship course next semester.”

“Do you know where you’re going?”

“...Not yet.”

Iwao sighs and puts his elbows on the table, shoving his glasses up onto his forehead as he rubs at his eyes.

“You need to figure that out,” he says exasperatedly. “Are you going to be able to carry pre-internship work, part-time work, and classes at the same time? And your relationship? Is it going to be a problem to maintain it?”

Sousuke hesitates and Iwao pinches the bridge of his nose like it’s taking all of his energy just to speak.

“Even a Yamazaki can be overwhelmed,” he finally says, dropping his hand. He looks at Sousuke with concern. “Very well. I won’t sign the lease for your apartment this coming spring, and you can do as you wish. But should you need any sort of financial support, you come to me first. _Please_ come to me first.”

Iwao stops, squeezing his thumb on the dining table and looking torn.

“I want you to be successful. I never want you to struggle to get by.”

“It builds character,” Sousuke says sarcastically, grabbing a big chunk of food from his plate and stuffing it in his mouth so he doesn’t have to talk anymore. Iwao just watches him, looking lost, before continuing his meal as well.

Later, Sousuke is busy carrying his and Makoto’s luggage upstairs to the guest bedroom when Makoto walks into the kitchen and sees Iwao standing over the sink, leaning heavily against it. An open pillbox sits to the left of him next to a half empty glass of water.

“Iwao-san?”

Iwao opens his eyes and looks over at Makoto before a slow smile spreads across his face. He straightens.

“Ah, yes. The anchor of my son, the one who behaves and most likely doesn’t openly mock his father,” Iwao announces, his deep voice laced with Sousuke-esque sarcasm. He’s much more eloquent. Makoto gives him an awkward grin.

“He doesn’t hate you, I promise,” he tries, a little nervous.

“Yes, I’m aware. It’s simply because I’m his _parent_ that he seems to be perpetually irritated by my mere existence,” Iwao says flatly. He glances away from Makoto, down at the pills by the sink. He reaches down to snap the _Friday_ compartment shut.

“Um...”

“Oh, don’t mind these,” Iwao hums pleasantly. He lifts the box and gives it a rattle. “They’re simply for back pain. And arthritis medication, for my wrist. Cholesterol... blood pressure… antidepressants, as well. How is Sousuke doing with his medication, may I ask?”

“He takes it every day with his arthritis pill,” Makoto says. He pauses before adding, “I don’t think he needs a pillbox yet.”

Iwao laughs lowly and sets his box down.

“I surely hope not. Ahh... it seems a Yamazaki body simply wasn’t built to last. A shame. We’re very ambitious but our bones and brains don’t seem to agree,” Iwao jokes. He smiles lightly at himself, but it fades as he pours the rest of his water out into the sink. Makoto frowns at him, his head tilted in concern.

“Is everything okay?”

“Mm? Oh yes, it’s just that my son seems to enjoy straining me to the brink of exhaustion,” Iwao explains. He makes a face. “I’m sure I make him want to rip his hair out, as well. Luckily for him, his will undoubtedly grow back. I must be careful with such things, if I’m to impress any ladies. I’ve been lucky so far.”

Makoto laughs as Iwao reaches up to stroke his thick hair, which has more streaks of gray in it than Makoto has ever seen.

“I suppose there isn’t any possibility of talking Sousuke into taking over my company, then?” Iwao suddenly asks. Makoto blinks and looks up at him. “Perhaps I could adopt you instead. You’re a smart young man.”

“I’m not really the business type,” Makoto laughs nervously. Iwao sighs through his nose and crosses his arms, tilting his head in thought.

“Rin, perhaps?” he asks. Makoto shifts uncomfortably.

“Are you joking right now, Iwao-san?”

“Of course,” Iwao assures him, a glint in his eye and a smirk on his lips. “It’s a shame my son is pursuing something like physical therapy, rather than taking an opportunity for a very financially rewarding career in business.”

“He wants to help people,” Makoto defends in Sousuke’s absence, furrowing his brow. “I think that means more to him than money.”

“Of course it does,” Iwao sighs, smiling lightly. “He has become a selfless, responsible young man. However, I fail to see the point he is trying to make. I’ve always wondered if he’s simply trying to atone for ruining his own shoulder by using it carelessly.”

Makoto shuts his mouth, unsure. Iwao sighs.

“If only he had fallen for someone who would tell him to be an obedient, good, traditional boy. Not someone who makes him stronger and more independent just by standing at his side.”

Makoto blinks, taken aback, but Iwao just smiles and reaches out to pat Makoto’s head.

“ _That_ was also a joke.”

 

**MARCH 2017**

Sato cries hard on the day of her graduation, hanging on Makoto and Sousuke all day and promising repeatedly that they’ll hang out.

Also in attendance are both of her mothers.

 

**APRIL 2017**

They prepare to move into their new apartment before summer semester begins. Still fried by finals, the process of moving consists of tossing things haphazardly into boxes and stuffing underwear in between glassware to keep it from breaking. Makoto spends half the time he’s supposed to be packing just reading old essays he found under the bed. They’re Sousuke’s, from the humanities class he hated two semesters ago.

“Oi! I knew you were in here,” Sousuke suddenly turns into the room with a box in his arms, making Makoto jump and hide the essay against his chest. Sousuke looks down his nose at Makoto, scolding him. “We have to get this done by Friday, you know.”

“I know! I just... your essays are really cute.”

Sousuke huffs and steps over the mess in their room to set the box on the bed, then sits cross-legged on the floor and holds out his hand. When Makoto offers him the essay, he snatches it out of his hand and makes a disgusted face.

“This was for my Japanese literature class,” Sousuke says. He smirks. “I completely bullshitted this one.”

“I liked that part where you compared the romance in the book to your own in real life,” Makoto coos. Sousuke blinks at him, looks at the essay and starts staring hard at it.

“Where?”

“Third page.”

Sousuke makes a face and hurriedly flips to the third page, scouring the paper until he gets to the bottom. His grimace deepens.

“Jeez,” Sousuke groans. “This was when I was still lovestruck.”

“You’re not anymore?”

“...I didn’t say that. I guess what I meant is that this was when I was still _stupid_ in love with you. My brain couldn’t handle it.”

Makoto giggles and gets on his hands and knees to crawl to Sousuke’s side. He practically falls against him, nuzzling into his good shoulder.

“I love you,” he hums.

“Yeah. Love you, too. But this packing really needs to get done.”

Makoto whines, muffled by Sousuke’s shirt. He lifts his face, all puppy dog eyes and pouty lips.

“It’s only Wednesday.”

“We gotta do it.”

“But Haru’s not home.”

Sousuke’s brows furrow in confusion until Makoto leans up and pecks his lips. He bites his bottom lip and tugs at it a little when he pulls away, but Sousuke doesn’t look amused.

“Are you trying to distract me with sex?”

“...No.”

“You have that look on your face. That ‘there’s a pool’ shit might work on Haruka, but it doesn’t work on me.”

“But...” Makoto trails off. His cheeks flush and his eyes glaze over as he leans in close. Sousuke swallows loudly.

“No buts,” he whispers. Makoto just gives him a dazed smile, setting his hand on his thigh.

“You can be on bottom,” he dangles the bait and Sousuke lets out a defeated groan.

“Twenty minutes.”

“An hour,” Makoto corrects in a purr, starting to push Sousuke down onto the floor.

“Half hour,” Sousuke tries weakly, pausing to shove a box out of the way before lowering his head onto the floor. “Forty-five...”

Three hours later, they collapse in bed and sleep the night through.

 

**MAY 2017**

Makoto sits outside on the balcony of his apartment on a warm Saturday. The apartment is cozy, clean, in a good neighborhood—there’s even a nice view of the park below. The floor plan is simple; quite a bit different from the first apartment, but nice all the same. The front door opens right into the kitchen, with a hallway off to the side leading down to the bedrooms, bathroom, and living room. Much to Haru’s annoyance, they hadn’t gotten an apartment with two full bathrooms.

By late afternoon, the sun hits the balcony at just the right angle, shining down on Makoto’s face as he sits there with his face upturned and his eyes closed. The breeze ruffles his hair, and not even the sound of the glass sliding door opening disturbs his peace.

“Hey, I’m back. Done with class?”

Makoto takes a deep breath through his nose and turns to face Sousuke, who grins at him. He’s got two cans of beer with him, one open and the other still sealed. A pair of sunglasses sits atop his styled hair, and he’s still wearing his name tag on his black polo;

_YAMAZAKI SOUSUKE, RECEPTIONIST, STUDENT ACTIVITY CENTER_

“Do you want one?” Sousuke asks, holding up a beer and giving it a wiggle. Makoto considers it for a moment, then shrugs.

“...Okay,” he finally says. Sousuke grins and hands it to him.

“Rin’s going to be pissed that he missed your first beer.”

“Mmm. When  I was little, I drank some on accident. I was thirsty and I thought it was lemonade,” Makoto murmurs. As Sousuke laughs, Makoto opens his beer and gives it an experimental sniff. It doesn’t smell too bad.

“You okay?” Sousuke asks. He pulls up one of the lawn chairs and flops down in it. He squints at the sun and flicks his sunglasses down back over his eyes.

“I’m great,” Makoto says, his voice soft. He takes a sip of his beer and makes a face before realizing it’s flavored; nothing like the usual dark, bitter stuff that smells like death. He relaxes in his chair and closes his eyes. “The sun feels good.”

“It’s already getting hot,” Sousuke sighs. “Wish we could have the sun without almost dying of a heat stroke. Did you hear the cicadas yet?”

“Not yet. But they’ll come out soon,” Makoto says. He looks down at the park below. “I wonder if we’ll get to see kids hunting for them.”

“I’m not going to stand out here staring down at kids playing like a creep,” Sousuke deadpans. Makoto giggles softly, takes another sip from his can, and reaches over with his free hand to take Sousuke’s.

“But isn’t it nice?” Makoto asks. “The summer. It makes me think of the ocean, and swimming.”

Sousuke squeezes his hand, then brings it to his lips to kiss his knuckles.

“What’s nice is that you’re feeling better. You _are_ feeling better, right?”

“Much better,” Makoto agrees. “It’s nice to go to class without getting my pants wet. And... the sun feels good. It feels even better than the Happy Lights.”

“Yeah, it’s too bad those things can’t be, you know, more like the sun,” Sousuke says dryly. Makoto laughs and leans over to bump his shoulder against Sousuke.

“They still _helped_.”

“Do you think it’ll come back next year?” Sousuke asks, his voice suddenly serious. He lifts up his sunglasses to look Makoto in the eye. “That... funk you were in. The depression.”

“Maybe,” Makoto whispers. He looks back out at the sun, watching it start to sink into the horizon. “I was thinking about that a while ago. I’m kind of worried that it’s going to come back.”

Sousuke squeezes his hand again.

“We’re going to be able to take it. This winter, and next winter. If it ever comes again, we’ll be ready and we won’t fuck it up this time.”

“It’s... Sousuke, you don’t have to burden--”

“It’s not a burden. If it’s part of who you are, then it’s fine. We’re a team.”

Makoto slowly smiles, leaning in towards Sousuke to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you. But I think Rin once told me you aren’t really a team player,” Makoto teases lightly. Sousuke huffs.

“That was when I was a stupid kid. And sports teams are _different_.”

Makoto laughs at Sousuke as he sulks.

“I’m kidding. I’m on your team, too,” Makoto says kindly. He rubs the back of Sousuke’s hand with his thumb. “I’ll always be on your team.”

Sousuke stays silent, but he seems somewhat troubled. Makoto watches him curiously, waiting for him to say something. However, every time he opens his mouth, he shuts it again.

“Sousuke?”

“Hey, I was--” Sousuke begins, but he stops and falls quiet.

“Huh?”

“Uhh... nevermind,” Sousuke says. He swallows, shrugging a little. “I’ll always be on your team, too.”

 

**JUNE 2017**

“I scheduled my surgery today.”

Makoto blinks and looks up sharply from his notes to see Sousuke walk into the room, two cups of coffee in his hands.

“Really?” Makoto asks. Sousuke nods mutely, hands Makoto a cup of coffee, and takes a seat beside him.

“Yeah. Two weeks from Monday, on the twenty-sixth. It’s... almost exactly three years since the first surgery.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah. The first was on the twenty-fifth of June. 2014,” Sousuke sighs. He taps his coffee mug, shaking his head. Frowning, Makoto slides a hand over and settles it over his pinky.

“Are you okay?”

“I still hate myself for messing up my shoulder,” he mutters. Taking a deep breath, he lowers his head and pinches the bridge of his nose. “And hospitals. They still...”

“It’s okay to be afra--”

“It’s _not_ ,” Sousuke snaps without warning. Makoto blinks, taken aback by his sudden aggression, and Sousuke immediately sags. “I just... how the hell am I supposed to be a physical therapist if hospitals still make me so... wound up, I guess. Riled.”

“Well...” Makoto trails off. “I was afraid of water for a long time. You know that. And I’m actually... mm, it’s embarrassing, but I’m still afraid of the ocean. But I love to swim. And swimming with Haru and the rest of the swim club made it worth it.”

Sousuke considers it, rubbing his chin and frowning.

“I just... look, it’s because I’m going to be doing a professional job shadow at the hospital downtown,” he explains. He fidgets slightly and Makoto gently rubs his hand to soothe him. “It’s for Professional Medicinal Application, and in the second half of the semester, we job shadow someone in medicine. I chose one of the physical therapists at that hospital.”

“That’s great,” Makoto murmurs, smiling. Sousuke gives him a small, nervous grin back.

“Uh, yeah. I just... I don’t want to be all wired when I go in for the shadow. And I know it’s just going to get harder and harder. I mean... one of the requirements for my class next semester is to watch an actual surgery. I don’t... I just don’t _know_ if I could actually...”

“Sousuke,” Makoto says. “It’s okay to be afraid. It’s good that you’re taking it slow. Just a job shadow... then working your way into your internship stuff. You’re going to get used to it. Like I got used to the water.”

Sousuke huffs a sigh but smiles anyway.

“If I wanted water analogies to help me, I would’ve asked Haruka,” he teases. Makoto smiles and squeezes Sousuke’s hand.

“Did it help a little bit?”

“It did. Thanks,” Sousuke says. “I’ll just have to bite the bullet and deal with it, I guess. Nothing much else I can do. Oh, and speaking of which... how is your class? Did you get your observation hours set up?”

“Well, without Friday classes, it looks like I’m going to be able to do the twelve hours at the end of the week at Tokitsu.”

A wide grin spreads across Sousuke’s face as he leans forward.

“So you chose my old high school afterall.”

“I was having trouble getting into Shinjuku Yamabuki,” Makoto whines. “So I just thought...”

“Good choice. What subject?”

“Physics,” Makoto groans. “It was the only subject left on the sign-up sheet in my class. That and English. I just really didn’t want to embarrass myself, so I chose physics.”

“I warned you not to procrastinate,” Sousuke needles him lightly. Makoto makes a face.

“We were busy with the move, and I just... kept forgetting to call... and go on the class website...”

“Well, it’s only twelve hours. How about next semester? Is that when you’ll be doing student teaching?”

“Yes. I’m doing okay in the prep course. But Koizumi-san is really piling on the homework and...”

“It sounds like we’ve both got a busy year. We’re barely going to have free time, you know. With the part time jobs and all this stuff. Are you going to be okay with that?”

Makoto pinches his lips together and thinks for a moment, his thumb stilling on the back of Sousuke’s hand. Finally, he gives a nod.

“I’m okay. We can do it,” he says. Sousuke lifts his hand to kiss his knuckles.

“I’ve got your back if you’ve got mine.”

 

**JULY 2017**

“You guys really do look like you’ve been through a blender,” Rin quips.  He waves a bottle of beer at Sousuke and Makoto, who stare blankly at him from across the table. It’s a week before finals and Makoto’s pretty sure he’ll explode if he sees one more theory on primary education and the developing human mind.

Sousuke, meanwhile, is still recovering from his surgery, but it’s nowhere near as intense as his first. He doesn’t have his sling on right now, but it’s lying around somewhere nearby.

“Thanks for noticing,” Sousuke mutters. He runs his hand through his hair again, tousling it for the millionth time. Haru, who dozed against the couch after his fourth beer, awakens for a moment to give Sousuke an amused look.

“What’s this muscle called?” he asks, lifting his arm and pointing to the inside of his forearm. Sousuke squints at him.

“Fuck off. There are like a thousand muscles in the forearm and you can’t just _point_ to it, unless you want to dissect your arm so I can _really_ see what it is.”

“Well, whatever it is, it’s an extensor,” Rin mutters, lifting his bottle to his lips. Sousuke bristles immediately and Makoto just hides behind his beer can.

“If it’s the inside of the forearm, it’s a _flexor_ , not an _extensor_ , that’s the outside of the forearm, you idiot,” Sousuke hisses. “Because extending means returning to anatomical position and—you’re making fun of me.”

Rin bursts into hysterical cackling and Haru joins him with muted laughter. Sousuke just mutters obscenities to himself and chugs the last of his beer before slamming the empty can down on the table and reaching for another.

“You need to relax,” Rin drawls. “Makoto. Seduce him into drinking like... fifty beers. Get him wasted. Have nasty drunk sex or whatever.”

“O-Oh... I don’t... I don’t think it’s a good idea to get really drunk so close to exams...” Makoto says. He looks over the rim of his beer can at Sousuke, blushing.

“I think it’s the best idea,” Sousuke grumbles. “But Rin just brought this nasty cheap shit.”

“I think it’s good,” Makoto mumbles, finishing off his second. Rin not-so-subtly slides him a third, and he takes it without really thinking.

“And it turns Haru into a cat, so I’m not complaining,” Rin says, jerking his thumb at Haru as he stretches out on the floor in front of the couch. “Also, Sousuke, cool your jets. I brought some stuff from Australia.”

Rin reaches into the brown paper bag beside him and pulls out a plastic bag filled with about twelve miniature bottles of golden alcohol. Makoto stares at it and Sousuke gives Rin a dry look.

“What the hell is that?”

“Bundy.”

“Sorry, did you just have a stroke? _What?_ ”

“Bundaberg rum,” Rin says. “They call it Bundy. And it’s going to fuck you up.”

“I’m not drinking your Australian piss.”

“Dude,” Rin says, opening the plastic bag and pulling out the mini bottles one by one. “I’m serious. You want to get fucked up, Sousuke? You asked for it.”

“These tiny bottles are going to get me more drunk than sake?” Sousuke asks skeptically. He grabs one of the bottles and lifts it so he can look at the English label. Makoto leans on him, reading over his shoulder. It takes him a full fifteen seconds of staring to realize he doesn’t understand a word of it.

“I don’t think you understand how Australians take their alcohol,” Rin says dryly. “Sake is like a juice box compared to this. Makoto, do you want some?”

Makoto nibbles his bottom lip. On one hand, he doesn’t want to have a nasty hangover, but on the other hand, it _has_ been a stressful week.

“Sure,” he finally says. Rin whoops and happily hands Makoto a tiny bottle. From the floor, Haru doesn’t open his eyes but he lifts one hand and gestures for Rin to hand him a bottle, too. Once they’re distributed, Rin cracks his open and raises it with a nod.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

\---

When Makoto comes to, he’s sprawled on the living room floor and still feeling a little woozy. As he sits up, he blinks and looks around with bleary, glazed-over eyes. Rin is under the table with nothing but his legs sticking out. Makoto’s pretty sure he’s wearing a pair of Sousuke’s pants. He has no idea where Haru is.

The living room is trashed. Empty beer bottles lie all over the floor. There’s also a half-eaten pan of burnt cookies sitting in front of the television. One of Sousuke’s shirts is draped over the lamp, too. And half his magazines have been knocked onto the floor.

Just when Makoto is about to go looking for Sousuke, he hears moaning from the toilet, followed by some nasty sounding coughs. Sighing, Makoto gets to his feet and wavers. His head feels lighter than it should be, and it’s a bit difficult to walk straight as he makes his way to the bathroom and gently knocks on the door.

“Don’t come in,” comes a gurgling, raspy voice. Makoto opens the door anyway to find Sousuke kneeling in front of the toilet, shirtless and white-faced. He gives Makoto a look as he slips inside and closes the door behind him.

“Morning,” Makoto greets. Sousuke groans and points his face downward as his body tenses again. He gags, coughs, and spits out a wad of mucus. The toilet smells like alcohol and vomit, a horrible mixture, but Makoto kneels beside his boyfriend anyway and rubs his back.

“Holy fuck,” Sousuke moans. “You should’ve seen me earlier. And I think I vomited off the balcony last night.”

“Oh no,” Makoto giggles. He laughs some more and leans his burning face against Sousuke’s cold, sweaty back. Sousuke shudders.

“What about you? Do you remember anything?”

“No. I feel great,” Makoto hums, his voice slurred. Sousuke pauses and turns his head to look at Makoto with tired, watery eyes.

“Babe, you’re still drunk,” he chuckles thickly. Makoto giggles again, blushing up to the tips of his ears.

“I kinda like that.”

“What, me calling you ba--”

Sousuke burps, curses, and faces the bowl again as he starts another round of retching. Makoto breathes through his mouth instead of his nose and rubs Sousuke’s back, trying not to listen to the sounds.

The door slams open without warning and Rin barrels into the room with his hand over his mouth. He stops upon seeing Sousuke, looks panicked, then coughs once and throws himself at the sink.

“Shit, dude, don’t puke in my sink!” Sousuke exclaims, but it’s too late. Rin grips the handles of the faucet as he vomits loudly into the sink. Sousuke curses, “God damn it.”

“I shouldn’t have started that third one,” Rin gurgles between waves.

“Where’s Haruka?”

“No clue,” Rin groans. “I don’t think he’s in the house.”

“Don’t joke about that,” Makoto whines. He hauls himself to his feet and stumbles out of the room to find Haru. He searches in the kitchen first, then Haru’s bedroom. It takes him an embarrassingly long time to try the bath.

The shower room is dark, but when Makoto turns on the lights, he hears loud groaning. Once his eyes adjust to the light, he sees Haru’s legs hanging over the edge of the tub. Sighing with relief, Makoto comes forward to look down at Haru lying in the bottom of the tub, naked.

“Haru, where are your clothes?”

“I was hot,” he replies, muffled by the pillow he’s holding over his face. Makoto teeters on his feet, suddenly dizzy, and sits down at the edge of the tub.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“I need water,” Haru says, refusing to move the pillow from his face. “Turn off the lights.”

“Water,” Makoto hums. He struggles to get up again, and journeys into the kitchen to get some water for Haru. It ends up being quite the task; when he opens the cupboard to get a cup, he’s distracted by a novelty mug he got Sousuke for White Day and starts laughing.

It takes ten minutes to bring a plastic cup of water back to Haru, who then throws the pillow across the room and pours the water all over his body. He sighs with relief, seemingly satisfied, before reaching up and turning on the faucet so water pours down directly onto his face. When he’s done, Haru turns off the water and sits up before dramatically flipping his hair and sending a spray of water onto Makoto’s arm.

“Better?” Makoto asks. Haru nods silently, his eyes already looking brighter as he drapes himself on the edge of the tub. Makoto giggles, “Sousuke says I’m still drunk.”

“You had a lot,” Haru says. “Do you remember anything?”

“Not at all!”

“You kissed Sousuke a lot. And Rin. And me,” Haru explains, making a face. He props his head up on his palm. “Mostly Sousuke. Sometimes Sousuke and Rin at the same time.”

Makoto stares at Haru, blinking slowly, as a slow blush creeps up to the tips of his ears.

“Don’t tease,” he groans. Haru shakes his head.

“You were trying to seduce all three of us. Sousuke was jealous until he started his second bottle. I actually came here after a while, so who knows what you did.”

“That’s...”

“You asked for Rin’s number. When you tried to wink you just closed both of your eyes.”

“I get it,” Makoto sighs. He reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose. The fluttery feeling in his body is slowly starting to dissipate and instead replaced by a creeping flu-like feeling, like an oncoming cold. His body wilts slightly.

“Are you okay?”

“I think I need to throw up.”

 

**AUGUST 2017**

Playing with Ran and Ren goes from cute and relaxing to constant weightlifting and sore backs. The two of them are freshly thirteen years old and growing out of their jeans so often that Kimiko forces them to wear shorts for the entirety of summer.

Makoto, mostly recovered from his weight loss over the winter season, gives Ren a piggyback ride all the way down the stairs from his home and carries him to the beach. Sousuke, meanwhile, chases Ran up and down the beach with a bottle of sunscreen, trying and failing to outrun her strong swimmer legs.

“Does she ever get tired?” Sousuke asks, panting heavily as he jogs to their little beach site and doubles over to catch his breath. Makoto sets Ren and the cooler down, laughing as he looks down at their discarded beach supplies. Sousuke had thrown them down without a care when Ran took off running, and now there’s sand clinging to the condensation on the water bottles.

“Well, if her freestyle is anything to go by, then no.”

“Nii-chan, are you going to swim with us?” Ren asks, tugging on Makoto’s hand. He’s getting taller—he nearly reaches Makoto’s shoulder, now. “Please?”

“Of course,” Makoto assures him, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “Sunscreen first.”

As Ran tries to rocket past and grab her innertube, Sousuke manages to dive in front of her and sweep her up around the waist, making her shriek and giggle with delight as he swings her around.

“Slow down!” he barks, pretending to be angry but only making Ran laugh harder. Sousuke brings her to the beach site in a fireman’s carry, then firmly sets her down in front of Makoto as he sprays sunscreen onto Ren’s back.

“I don’t need sunscreen, Mom says I’m a smart camper,” Ran boasts, crossing her arms and upturning her nose. “Nii-chan, I really don’t need sunscreen.”

“Ren said that you got sunburn a few weeks ago, because you said you put sunscreen on yourself but you didn’t.”

“Ren’s a big fat liar!” Ran exclaims.

“Am not!”

“Yuh- _huh!_ ”

“Stop fighting,” Makoto sighs as he finishes up Ren. “Let it dry a little, Ren.”

Ren bounds away, kicking up sand as he goes and getting it in Sousuke’s face as he tries to set up the beach umbrellas. While Sousuke mutters curses, Makoto laughs and beckons Ran closer.

Once the kids are properly protected, Makoto sends them off to play. He doesn’t make them wear water wings or bring an innertube with them since the waves are barely over six inches, but he keeps an eye on them anyway as he and Sousuke sit together beneath the umbrellas. He laughs when Ren and Ran discover the sandbar a little ways out and pretend to dive off of it like professional swimmers.

“So, Ran swims freestyle?” Sousuke asks, laying back on his towel and moving his sunglasses to the top of his head once he’s in the shade. Makoto grins.

“Yes,” he says. “Ren was jealous at first, because he wanted to swim the same stroke Haru swims, but he wanted to be on the same relay team as Ran. He ended up swimming backstroke. He really likes it. I wish I had been able to teach him.”

“You’ve had your own shit to deal with,” Sousuke soothes. He rolls onto his side and props his head up on his hand, reaching out with the other to rub Makoto’s knee.

“Yeah, but I always thought I’d be able to coach them.”

“After next semester, you’re going to be done and you’re going to go out into the real world and teach kids how to swim,” Sousuke says. “Just a little bit longer.”

“Yeah...” Makoto sighs, smiling. “Thanks.”

He watches Ran and Ren some more, laughing softly when Ran accidentally falls off the sandbar and plunges into the deep water. She bobs to the surface a moment later, spluttering and laughing as Ren helps her back onto the bar. He sees glimpses of himself in them; kind and a little timid, but also resourceful and quick to bounce back. The sight of them echoing so many of his traits makes him wonder what his own kids would look like. Would they be happy? Would they have that little selfish streak? Would they be terrified of ghosts and monsters and the dark?

Would they be stubborn and sarcastic, like Sousuke?

Makoto’s fist clenches and he draws his knees up to his chest. Whenever he thinks about his body lately, he gets an uncomfortable twist in his gut. His body is simply not made to have children, and never will be. Sousuke’s body will never be able to have children. Old, buried feelings begin to well up inside of Makoto’s heart, making his throat tighten. If he had been born with the correct reproductive organs, he’d be able to have a child.

“Makoto? Something on your mind?” Sousuke asks. It takes a moment for Makoto to realize he’s being spoken to and he jumps slightly as he turns to look down at his boyfriend. He laughs humorlessly and scratches his cheek, offering Sousuke a smile.

“It’s nothing,” he lies. Sousuke frowns and heaves a sigh, shaking his head.

“You’re a shitty liar,” he mutters, but he doesn’t press the issue. “When you’re ready to talk about it, I’m here.”

Makoto nods, relieved, and looks out at Ran and Ren playing together in the ocean.

 

**SEPTEMBER 2017**

“Guess what I did today?”

Makoto jumps slightly at Sousuke’s voice suddenly in his ear, gripping his teacup a little harder. They’re on the couch, the lights dimmed. Haru’s been out for a week, off visiting Rin in Australia and preparing for a tournament. Makoto doesn’t know if it’s coincidence that he left the country so close to Sousuke’s birthday—maybe he could sense the underlying sexual tension that’s been intensifying since the end of August.

“What did you do today?” Makoto asks softly. Sousuke’s hand settles on his thigh, rubbing up and down. Swallowing hard, Makoto sets his teacup aside and lets Sousuke touch him, his warm hand sliding across his stomach and holding his waist.

“I went to get tested,” Sousuke murmurs, his lips once more pressed to Makoto’s ear. “I’m clean.”

Makoto’s fists clench on his lap, his breathing becoming a bit labored as he bites the inside of his cheek.

“Really?”

“Really. Nothing. Completely clean. So... I think we should try it out. No condoms. See if it’s better.”

“I should’ve gotten tested, too,” Makoto laments, his voice quivering as Sousuke’s fingers threaten to tickle his sides. “Because... today I wanted...”

“You want to be on top?” Sousuke asks. He draws away from Makoto’s ear, his pupils blown and a blush just starting to rise to his cheeks. “Yeah... I don’t want you putting it in until you’re tested, too. It’s nothing personal, it’s just--”

“No no no, that’s... it means a lot to me. I’m really happy you got tested for me. Knowing you care so much.”

“Well, yeah. Obviously. I just wanted to make sure my dad didn’t pass anything along. And you should get tested too, just because... well, I don’t know, because your parents seem like the type who would tell you if they passed on HIV or something.”

“They would. But I’m going to get tested anyway,” Makoto says firmly. Sousuke smiles. “I would never forgive myself if something happened.”

“Well... I’ve already sucked your dick and swallowed, so I wonder if it really matters,” Sousuke laughs. “At least you know I’m clean.”

“Um... if you’ve been swallowing, wouldn’t you have gotten a virus? And then you wouldn’t have shown up clean.”

“Good point, Tachibana. I can’t believe my boyfriend is a logic master.”

“I’m still gonna get tested,” Makoto repeats. Sousuke grins, returning to Makoto’s ear to kiss it and nibble at the lobe. “Mmm... how about this weekend?”

“Sure, I’ll drive you. It means a lot.”

“And I’m glad you got tested, but I wanted to take care of _you_ ,” Makoto says, grabbing Sousuke’s thigh without warning and forcing him down onto his back on the couch. Makoto pinches his thigh, digging his thumb into a particularly sensitive spot until Sousuke lets out a whine and tries to squirm away.

“Why do you pinch like that?” Sousuke asks when Makoto lets up. He spreads his legs to let Makoto rest his hips between them.

“Oh... um, sorry. I like the noise you make,” he says sheepishly. Sousuke smirks.

“When did you even find that spot?”

“A really long time ago, we had a big fight. When it was over, I pinched your thigh really hard and I liked the noise you made,” Makoto admits. Sousuke huffs a sigh through his nose and gives him a look.

“Well, I can feel it in my spine when you pinch there. Like you’re pinching a nerve or something.”

“Is that dangerous?”

“Hm... I can kinda feel it in my dick, too.”

“ _Sousuke_ ,” Makoto squeaks. Sousuke winks up at him and reaches out to drape his arms around Makoto’s neck.

“Gonna give me my birthday present now?” he purrs. Makoto flushes scarlet and gives a single nod, adjusting himself so he’s resting comfortably on top of his boyfriend.

“Yeah.”

 

**OCTOBER 2017**

“My name is Matsumoto Naoki. I will be your Field Study instructor this semester. Call me Naoki.”

Makoto adjusts himself in his chair, tugging at the sleeves of his nicest plaid shirt as he looks around the classroom. There are at least eighty other students in the lecture hall, the vast majority of them women. When he looks back at the front of the room, the professor is looking directly at him. His sunken eyes are intimidating—he reminds Makoto of Iwao when they first met, but there is no underlying warmth. Makoto immediately averts his eyes. He’s dealt with these types of professors before, he’s not too concerned. If he just keeps his head down and does his work, the class will go fine.

He wishes this professor wasn’t the only one teaching this class in this time slot. It’s either this or class at eight in the morning.

“My course requires extensive study, work ethic, and a passion to teach. If you have doubts, I would advise that you drop out and take up another major,” Naoki lectures. He puts his hands in the pockets of his suit pants and paces in front of the classroom. Makoto swears he looks like he’s prowling. “You are required to fulfill eighty hours of student teaching. A quota that, in my opinion, nowhere _near_ scratches the surface of public education. If you fall more than two hours under the requirement, you will automatically fail my course. If you fall under by one hour, you will pass the course with the lowest grade possible. Take your student teaching hours very seriously. Consider my class the most important of any class you are taking this semester.”

Makoto taps his pencil on his blank notebook page, irritated. He just wants to take notes and get to the actual content of the course. However, he doesn’t look up from his notebook, instead drawing a cat face at the top corner of his notes. As the professor continues to talk, he adds whiskers, ears, and a triangle nose.

“You are required to attend my class every class period. No ‘freebies’ will be given. There will be an in-class activity every day—no make-ups. Don’t ask. Reading quizzes will be posted weekly on the class website. They contain questions directly from the textbook. Do not email me with questions about the quizzes—they consist of ten questions pulled out of a pool of about a hundred. Each quiz is randomized,” Naoki continues. He turns and waves his hand flippantly as he heads to the whiteboard. “Also, if you have another window open during the quiz, it will automatically close out. Read before you take the quiz.”

Makoto adjusts himself in his seat again, writing ‘FIELD STUDY’ at the top of his notebook and underlining it.

When he finally looks up, Naoki is standing at the front of the classroom with his hands clasped together and a smug grin on his face.

“Questions?”

 

**NOVEMBER 2017**

“I’m home!” Makoto calls as he bustles into the apartment and fumbles with his soaking wet umbrella. He casts one last annoyed look out at the cold, wet day and shuts the door, blocking out the howling wind. Depositing his umbrella in the holder, he toes off his shoes and tries to ignore the wet hems of his suit pants as he pads into the living room. He finds Haru there, ironing one of Sousuke’s work shirts. On the couch, Sousuke is staring blankly at a text document on his laptop.

“Welcome home,” Haru says pleasantly. Sousuke just grunts, scratches at the stubble on his chin, and goes back to squinting at his screen. Haru rolls his eyes and huffs a sigh, “And happy birthday. How was teaching?”

“It was fine. I’m tired. But another seven hours down,” Makoto says, forcing himself to put a smile on his face even as the rest of his body wilts. “I really, _really_ hate getting up before seven in the morning. But the kids were excited that it’s the weekend, so they were good today. Also, the girls keep giggling when I come into the classroom and... I think I’m overdressing, I mean--”

“It’s because you’re a babe,” Sousuke mutters. Makoto flushes bright red as Sousuke finally tears his eyes away from his computer and looks up at Makoto’s face with tired, bloodshot eyes. He tries to wink and ends up closing both eyes. “Because... you’re a sexy... tight ass and a killer smile.”

“I’m a... what?”

“He was out here when I left for swim practice this morning,” Haru deadpans. “He said something about physics.”

“Physiology, Haruka, is it really so hard to take the water out of your ear hole? Out of your... external auditory canal,” Sousuke rambles. He looks at Makoto and nods sagely. “That’s the anatomical term for your ear hole. You use it to hear. Boom. Aced it.”

“Sousuke,” Makoto sighs. “You’re going to do fine on your exam. Please get up. C’mon.”

“Wait. One more section. I need to memorize every action for the back muscles,” Sousuke protests even as Makoto reaches out to hoist him up from the couch. “If I don’t pass this exam I’m going to fail and I’ll be homeless.”

“Haru, did he drink anything?” Makoto asks, awkwardly holding Sousuke up as he slumps against him. Haru just gives him a blank look.

“...I saw energy drink cans.”

“I thought so,” Makoto groans. He adjusts Sousuke in his grip and struggles to drag him out of the living room and down the hall to their bedroom.

“Holy shit,” Sousuke suddenly says. Makoto manages to get him to the bed and lays him down. As soon as Sousuke’s head hits the pillow, his eyelids start to fall.

“What’s wrong?” Makoto asks. Sousuke shakes his head and reaches out to swat at Makoto’s arm. He ends up missing and lets his arm plop back down onto the bed.

“You could help. You have... back muscles. I can name them. Tell you the actions.”

“Maybe after a nap,” Makoto murmurs. He reaches down and starts unbuckling Sousuke’s belt. With a little bit of elbow grease, he manages to pull off Sousuke’s pants, leaving him in his boxers and a sweater.

“I do it for you,” Sousuke mumbles. Makoto glances up at his face, already laughing a little. He’s met with sincerity under the tired, hazy look in his eye. Sousuke takes a small breath, smirking a little. “I want... to ace this. So I can get a job. And be with you. And support you.”

“It’s not like I’m going to be a stay-at-home boyfriend,” Makoto giggles. Sousuke blinks slowly at him.

“But if you wanted to, you could.”

Makoto smiles and reaches up to cup Sousuke’s cheek, gently stroking the deep blue bags under his eye until his face relaxes under his hand. He lets out a tiny snore and wakes himself up, jumping slightly as he blinks up at Makoto again.

“Wuh—happy birthday. Holy shit. I forgot. The dinner reservations--”

As Sousuke starts to sit up, Makoto stops him and pushes him down again, smiling.

“I’m a little tired. Can we save it for another day?” he asks.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“...Okay. If you...hnn, say so.”

As Sousuke rests, Makoto stands from the edge of the bed and starts stripping down. He manages to hang his pants and suit coat over his chair, but his tie, button-up shirt, and socks all end up in a pile on the floor. Upon seeing the rainfall outside, he goes straight to the window and shuts the blinds. He turns on the Happy Light that sits dutifully on the bedside table. Engulfed in the dim light, Makoto climbs into bed at Sousuke’s side, hooking their legs together and tucking his head against his side.

“I have a present for you, too,” Sousuke mutters, half asleep. Makoto looks up at his face, smiling at the way his dark lashes rest against his cheek. “I’ll give it to you later... and sex... and... dinner date, n’ stuff.”

“Okay.”

“I’m just tired.”

“Me too.”

“...I’m worried about my exam on Monday,” Sousuke admits. “I just... there’s so much shit to know and--”

“You told me naps are good for the brain and help you learn more.”

“I... you’re right.”

“So sleep, Sousuke.”

“...Mm’kay.”

 

**DECEMBER 2017**

“Wow. That professor sounds like a total dick. At least you’ve got half your hours done. You’ll have him out of your hair in no time,” Sato says as she takes a sip of her hot cocoa. They’re seated in the back corner of their usual coffee shop just outside campus—they haven’t been here in over a year. There has been a renovation, and the bulletin board is completely full of all-new band posters and gig schedules. The chalkboard menu has even been recently erased and completely redone. Despite all the changes, it still feels familiar.

“Mm,” Makoto hums, distracted. He gazes out the window and stirs his hot chocolate with a straw.

“You okay, Makkun? You’ve been pretty quiet. Is... is it the depression again?” Sato asks, hushed. She leans forward, her big eyes full of concern. Makoto offers her a small smile.

“No, no. It’s not that,” he assures her. “I’ve been seeing a counselor about it. She’s helping a lot.”

“Good,” Sato says, visibly relieved. She sits back in her chair. “So what’s wrong? You’ve been, like... brooding. I’m worried.”

“Well... I’ve been thinking lately...” Makoto murmurs. “It’s... it’s just that I’m twenty-two, and I’m going to be graduating in a few months, and... I don’t know. I don’t know what I’ll do after college.”

“Get a job,” Sato laughs. “I mean... I majored in physical therapy and now I’m a secretary at Aiko’s company. And guess what? I like it more than physical therapy, and I’m making good money. Not to mention, awesome healthcare. You don’t have to dive right into coaching right out of college.”

“N-No, that’s not it,” Makoto laughs nervously. He scratches the back of his neck, feeling hot all of a sudden. “I meant... about me and Sousuke.”

“Wait, you’re not breaking up with him, are you?!” Sato shouts. A few heads turn as Makoto desperately shushes her, hunching his shoulders and trying to hide his face behind a potted plant.

“Shh, shh! Not so loud, Sato-san, please--”

“Sorry. But you’re not breaking up, are you? You guys are like the power couple of all power couples, y’know?”

“I’m not breaking up with him,” Makoto says quietly. “I’m... well, it’s the opposite, actually. I was... um... well, you see...”

Sato blinks and tilts her head in confusion.

“You were...?”

“I was thinking maybe... it’s about time... we... well, I was thinking that we could... maybe get... m-married.”

Sato stares at Makoto for a long time before her body starts to shake and her cheeks start to turn red.

“Please don’t scream,” Makoto whimpers just as Sato lets out a shrill scream, bounces up and down in her chair, and starts clapping her hands.

“Oh my god! You should, you should! Oh my god. _Makkun!_ ”

“But there are lots of... um, legal problems,” Makoto mumbles. He traces the rim of his cocoa mug with the tip of his finger. “Isn’t it still illegal?”

“Well... you’ve been keeping up with the legal stuff, right?” Sato asks. When Makoto makes a face, she huffs a sigh and rolls her eyes. “Okay, it used to be that they wouldn’t recognize a same-sex marriage from outside of the country, right? Well, that changed after 2015... and... well, there hasn’t been much budging past that. They’re working on it. But you could get married outside of Japan, in a country where it’s legal.”

“I don’t know if we have the money to go outside Japan,” Makoto sighs, his heart sinking. “I wouldn’t want to impose--”

“Makkun.”

Makoto looks up at the sound of Sato’s sharp voice. She stares back at him with a stern expression.

“The people who love you will want to help. You should accept it, if you really wanna marry Sousuke. You really want to marry him, right?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Then you should start looking at places where you can get married,” Sato says. “New Zealand, maybe? Rin is in Australia, he might have connections.”

“Well, yeah, but...”

“Then there’s the United States, but I’m pretty sure some of the states are full of crazy people. I think... California is a place where you could get married. There’s Canada, too. Brazil... oh, and in Europe, there’s places like Sweden and France… some other countries I can’t remember the name of. You could probably get married in Par--”

“I don’t want to leave Japan!” Makoto blurts. Sato blinks, taken aback. “I don’t want to leave Japan, and I don’t think I should have to! I just want to be with him. And I want to be safe. The United States is full of... it’s just dangerous, okay?”

“But... Canada is--”

“It’s dangerous there, too. And everywhere, for people like me,” Makoto whispers. He swallows hard, his throat tightening. “I want to get married here, because this is where I was born, and it’s where my mom and dad live. And the twins. Sato-san, I’m afraid that they won’t be safe in other countries. I’m not even sure we’re safe _here_.”

He leans back in his chair, his eyes suddenly stinging and he scratches at his hairline and digs the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“...I’m sorry. I haven’t been getting much sleep.”

“I had no idea,” Sato says quietly. “I thought...”

“Marriage means a lot to me,” Makoto says, lifting his tired eyes to meet Sato’s gaze. “But safety means more. I worry about Rei being in the United States. I know he’s been harassed about his English, and I’m even worse at it than he is. I barely understand elementary English, and... I just... I know I want to marry him. It’s just... remember a long time ago when we sat out in the campus courtyard, and I told you that I wanted a family?”

“Of course I do,” Sato says. Her voice cracks as she speaks and she bites her lip to keep composure.

“It’s been almost four _years_ ,” Makoto breathes. “And almost _nothing_ has changed. I don’t care that Japan recognizes marriage from other countries. I want to be married _here_. Where I was _born_ , in the country that I love. So please, Sato-san, don’t tell me to go to a different country.”

“Well... right now that’s the only thing you _can_ do,” Sato says. She sniffs loudly, wipes her tears, and looks Makoto in the eye. “I mean... you can’t get married, but you can sign for a house or an apartment together. And you can visit each other in the hospital if there’s an emergency... they legalized that a couple years ago, too. Maybe... there could be a symbolic marriage? And you could wait until Japan legalizes it for real? I know we will. The rest of the world is changing really fast. And there’s more acceptance.”

Makoto leans back in his chair, starting to feel emotional himself. He shakes his head, trying to keep a straight face as his eyes water.

“It’s not enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friends [Diana](http://coronaampora.tumblr.com) and [Nicole](http://syniio.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](http://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](http://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](http://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](http://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	52. Chapter 52

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to part 4, aka "sweet adorable boys who never deserved the events of part 3 finally get pampered"

**PART FOUR**

The bed shifts next to Makoto, yanking him out of a fantastic dream about cats. His eyelids flutter open to see Sousuke sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling on a pair of socks.

“Mm... what time is it?” he asks, clumsily rubbing his eyes and squinting at the clock. It looks like it’s six in the morning, but it’s too blurry to be sure. He struggles to adjust his vision, but Sousuke is quick to stroke his hair back and lull him back into a light doze.

“Sorry I woke you,” he whispers. “I’m going to the library early to study.”

“Mmm... exam...?” Makoto mumbles. Sousuke’s hand pauses on his hair before moving to his cheek, stroking it with his knuckles.

“Yeah. It’s the big one.”

“Hmm?”

“If I get a high grade on this one, I don’t have to take the final. Remember?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m going to do my best,” Sousuke murmurs, his lips right against Makoto’s ear. “So wish me luck.”

“You can do it,” Makoto sighs, drifting further and further away from consciousness. He feels Sousuke’s lips press gently against his cheek and a light tug on his finger before he falls asleep.

\---

He wakes up again at eight, bleary-eyed and still tired. His shift at the coffee shop in the library starts at nine, giving him only about a half hour to get ready. Groaning, he sits up and rubs his eyes. Working is probably the last thing he wants to do today. With Tuesdays and Thursdays off from student teaching, his ‘free time’ is loaded up with work and classes and homework. He’s stretched beyond his limits, he knows, but it’s almost over. Classes end in the middle of February, and if everything goes according to plan, he’ll be able to graduate in March.

“Almost done. Almost done,” Makoto chants to himself as he struggles to get out of bed; the sheets are too warm to leave. Even though he’s horribly tempted to call in sick from work, he manages to force himself to his feet and to the shower. He stands under the spray for a good five minutes before he even attempts to do any washing of any kind.

He moves quickly afterwards, practically feeling the seconds tick by. If he doesn’t leave at exactly eight-thirty, he’ll be late. Standing naked in front of the mirror, he hurriedly brushes his teeth, humming as he does and glancing periodically at his watch. He ends up moving so fast that he knocks his toothbrush painfully against his gums, making him whine. He quickly finishes, spits and rinses, and peers at his teeth in the mirror to make sure he isn’t bleeding. They’re not bleeding, but his gums are throbbing with pain. They’ll probably hurt when he eats lunch. Grumbling, Makoto grabs a small towel and reaches up to squeeze-dry his hair and shake it out. As he does, he happens to look at his hand.

A silver band sits on his left ring finger.

Makoto freezes, staring in disbelief. He wonders if this has all been a dream and gets momentarily excited—maybe he has more time to sleep, after all. When he presses his tongue against his gums, however, he definitely feels pain.

He brings his hand to his face, staring blankly at the new, shiny ring on his finger. It looks like sterling silver, and it’s pretty plain—no gems, no fancy inscriptions. Just a plain silver ring. His blood runs hot and his cheeks catch fire in a rush as he holds his left hand in his right, cradling it like it’s fragile. He’s so focused on the ring he forgets he’s naked.

By the time he recovers, he only has five more minutes to get ready. Makoto moves faster than he ever has, running around the apartment and throwing on his clothes without a care. He’s pretty sure his socks don’t match, but he yanks on his boots anyway and rushes out the door.

It’s cold, but there isn’t any snow, so Makoto takes off in a sprint to the subway station only a short block away from his apartment. The train ride takes far too long, and Makoto spends the whole trip trying not to run around and show off his ring. He bears it with pride, looking around to see if anyone notices the tiny band of silver around his finger. Of course, it’s illogical to think anyone cares, but every passing glance makes Makoto grin from ear to ear. All the smiling hurts his gums, but he can’t seem to remember how to look neutral.

He gets off the subway at the library station, half-running through the terminal and breathlessly chanting ‘excuse me’ and ‘pardon me’ to everyone he brushes past. He bounds up the staircase two steps at a time, then makes a beeline towards the library. Hopefully Sousuke’s still there, even though it’s been almost three hours since he left the apartment.

Makoto doesn’t have to wonder long, because Sousuke emerges from the library a moment later, his eyes trained on Makoto as he descends the staircase in front of the building. Makoto can’t hold it in, he bursts out laughing at the sight of him and breaks into a run.

“Hey, I’m heading out to take my exam now, so--” Sousuke begins, but he doesn’t have a chance to finish as Makoto bounces up five steps and barrels into him, throwing his arms around his neck and squeezing the life out of him. Sousuke wheezes and curses as he stumbles backwards, his heel hitting the next step up. He flails slightly and manages to grab the railing to catch himself.

Makoto tries to think of something to say, but he can’t. He just laughs. He knows they’re attracting attention, so he refrains from kissing his boyfriend’s face all over. Instead, he settles with embracing him until his arms are sore from holding on so tight. Briefly, he combs his fingers through Sousuke’s hair, making it stick up in the back. He stops before more unwanted attention is drawn their way, but it takes all his energy to pull back from Sousuke and hold him by the elbows.

“I was so surprised,” Makoto starts. His lungs feel small, like he can’t get enough air, and he pants slightly as he smiles and shakes his head. “I mean, _what_...?”

“I dunno, I saw it at the store and I got it. Sorry it’s so plain. It was kind of on a whim,” Sousuke rambles. He lifts his own left hand, showing Makoto a matching silver ring on his finger. “It’s stupid, I know, but... whatever. Um… someone told me promise rings were romantic. Or... something like that. I don’t... whatever, I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

As he stumbles over his words, Makoto shakes his head.

“What do you mean? Of course it’s not stup--”

“Get a room.”

Makoto’s head snaps up to see a tall, slim figure standing at the top of the staircase. His light pink hair, longer than it was when Makoto last saw him, is tied back in a short ponytail. He grins as he walks down the stairs, hands in his pockets.

“C’mon, we’re blocking people,” Shigino Kisumi teases, putting his hands on Makoto’s and Sousuke’s shoulders and escorting them down the stairs. Makoto splutters, doing double and triple takes and flapping his lips in disbelief.

“Kisumi?! What are you doing here?”

“He applied for the nursing program here,” Sousuke sighs. “We’ve been talking for a bit. I don’t know how he found me.”

“It was the best university in Tokyo I could get into,” Kisumi says, his eyes glinting. He reminds Makoto of a particularly mischievous cat. Once they’re off the staircase, Kisumi puts his hands on his hips and smiles brightly. “Long time no see, Makoto. Heard you’re going for coaching? That’s pretty cool. It definitely suits you. But where is your other half?”

He winks. Sousuke makes a face.

“Right here,” he mutters under his breath. Makoto laughs.

“Haru? He’s out swimming, I think. Or taking some classes. I think he mentioned something about signing up for a community art class,” Makoto explains. Kisumi pouts.

“Aw. I wanted to see him, too. So that’s what he’s up to? I’m happy for him. Living up to that free lifestyle he wanted so much, huh?”

“Yes,” Makoto giggles. “And you! Nursing?”

“Yeah, sure. It sounded like fun,” Kisumi says, shrugging. “It’s pretty hard.”

“Pretty hard, he says,” Sousuke scoffs. “Damn near impossible. How do you get by without studying?”

“Maybe I’m just magic,” Kisumi sighs, lifting his hands in a shrug. Sousuke rolls his eyes. “Besides, you weren’t studying, either! You kept looking at the door with big, sparkly eyes. All three hours. Makoto, he said he had a tummy ache and kept putting his head down on the desk. I told him you’d love it, but--”

“That’s enough,” Sousuke interrupts, crossing his arms and scowling as his cheekbones start to turn pink. “I’m stressed, alright?”

“The last half hour, he was waiting at the doors and staring out the window for you to come out of the station,” Kisumi whispers. Sousuke’s scowl deepens. “He was staging the meetup on the stati--”

“I’m going to rip you a new mouth,” Sousuke snarls. Kisumi laughs and slings an arm around Sousuke’s shoulders, jostling him around.

“I’m so happy for you guys, honestly,” he gushes. “Never saw it coming. I should’ve transferred sooner! I’m a _great_ matchmaker.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Sousuke mutters, smacking Kisumi’s hand and shrugging his arm off of his shoulder.

“Jeez, you’re just as cold as Haru,” Kisumi whines. Makoto smiles as Kisumi comes to him instead, looping his arms around his neck from the side. “Good thing me and Makoto here are best buddies, right?”

Makoto laughs nervously, scratching at his cheek as Sousuke looks on with barely concealed jealousy.

“That’s a mean face you’ve got there,” Kisumi muses, swaying back and forth with Makoto and giving Sousuke a smug look. “Are you afraid I’m going to steal your cute boyfriend?”

“Don’t we have an exam to get to?” Sousuke asks loudly. “The _important_ exam that decides whether or not you get into the nursing program here?”

“Oh, is it time already? Too bad,” Kisumi sighs. He pouts his lip at Makoto and pats the top of his head. “Guess it’s time to say goodbye.”

Sousuke grabs Kisumi’s arm and yanks him away from Makoto, which only makes him laugh.

“Why are you so _angry_ , Sooousuke?” Kisumi sing-songs as Sousuke drags him away.

“Makoto, you’re late,” Sousuke grumbles over his shoulder. Makoto blinks and looks down at his watch.

_9:07_

“Oh no!” Makoto cries, whirling and rushing towards the library as fast as he can. As he turns tail and runs for the library, he hears Kisumi laughing behind him.

Work is entirely uneventful, but Makoto _does_ get a lot of questions about his promise ring. A few of his coworkers ask if he’s getting married, much to his embarrassment. It’s almost impossible not to gush about Sousuke--his coworkers don’t know he’s gay.

He wonders if Sousuke planned to put the ring on his finger while he was sleeping. Part of him wants to believe that Sousuke was just being smooth, but he knows deep down Sousuke had been too embarrassed to do it face to face.

Thoughts of Sousuke occupy him the entire day, and he walks around in a haze even after work. The frigid January wind doesn’t even faze him. On his way to Field Study, he trips on a tiny ridge in the sidewalk, nearly faceplanting. He’d normally blush, but he’s already red all the way up to the tips of his ears. He hears someone ask him if he’s okay, but he doesn’t register it, instead drifting to his class and taking his normal seat. With his chin in his palms, he daydreams until Professor Naoki arrives, and then another ten minutes into class.

He doesn’t realize that he doesn’t have his glasses on until he’s straining his eyes to read the notes on the projector. Smiling to himself, Makoto digs his glasses case out of his backpack, along with his notebook and pen. But instead of taking legible notes, he copies a few words off of the projector before losing focus and instead drawing hearts all over his notebook.

“...If no one is going to volunteer, then I’ll just choose someone,” Naoki says just in time for Makoto to fall back to earth. He looks up from his notebook at exactly the wrong time, catching Naoki’s gaze. The professor stares at him expectantly, his arms crossed and his neck craned. Makoto sits there, utterly lost, as the class stares at him. He instinctually grabs at his ring, twisting it around and around on his ring finger.

“Um...” he begins. Clearing his throat, he asks, “What... what was the question?”

The class titters. Naoki just looks exasperated.

“If you spent half as much time reading your textbook and paying attention rather than staring off into space, we wouldn’t have this issue,” Naoki says harshly. The class immediately quiets down as blood rushes in Makoto’s ears. He lowers his head, feeling hot and ashamed.

“I’m sorry.”

“In fact, why don’t you go home and read the textbook. Maybe you’ll be prepared for class next Thursday.”

Makoto looks up, his face still burning and sweat prickling at his back. Naoki is continuing to stare at him, nothing but ice in his eyes. The silence in the room is deafening.

“...Are you serious?” Makoto asks. Naoki’s lips curl back in a cruel, sarcastic smile.

“Dead serious. Get out of my classroom.”

Swallowing hard, Makoto slowly starts to close his notebook, still unsure if this is all some sort of joke. But Naoki continues to keep his eyes trained on him, daring him to speak again. Makoto shoves his things in his backpack, grabs his coat, and hurries to the left aisle leading to the exit. Unfortunately, his seat is in the second row, forcing him to face the majority of his classmates as he climbs the steps to the back of the classroom and the door. A few people give him apologetic looks, but most of them keep their heads down.

When Makoto escapes from the classroom, he finally takes a heaving breath. His heart is throbbing in his chest, and his hands are clammy. He’s so ashamed he feels nauseous. Images of the professor’s face keep flashing through his mind. Overcome with the urge to cry, Makoto takes a few minutes to compose himself in the hallway, squeezing the straps of his backpack and distracting himself with his phone.

Once he’s able to move again, Makoto pulls on his coat and gloves. He puts up his hood for good measure, and leaves the building with his head down.

\---

By the time he gets to the station closest to the apartment, he’s fuming. He doesn’t understand why a professor would single him out like that—while asking for _volunteers_ no less. A professor has never treated him like this before. He can’t even remember a high school teacher treating him like this.

The freezing wind doesn’t help the angry tears in Makoto’s eyes. They nearly freeze on his eyelashes on the way home, further upsetting him and making him want to curl up in a hole and stay there for the rest of his life.

He even fumbles his keys when he tries to unlock the front door of his apartment, dropping them to the ground.

“Shit,” Makoto curses, the word sounding foreign and dirty in his mouth. He grinds his teeth as he stoops to pick up his keys, but the door swings open as he does.

“Hey!” Sousuke says, a big smile on his face. “I thought I heard you at the door. What are you doing home so—what’s wrong?”

Sousuke’s face falls the moment Makoto straightens. Grabbing his hand, Sousuke pulls Makoto into the apartment and shuts out the cold behind him. He rubs Makoto’s arms up and down through his coat, trying to warm him up.

“You okay?” he asks. Makoto feels his face heating up again, and more tears threaten the corners of his eyes. He ducks his head in embarrassment, not wanting Sousuke to see him so upset by something so stupid, but Sousuke takes his chin in his hand and lifts his face. His brows furrow as he states, “...This isn’t about the weather.”

“No, it’s not about the _weather_ ,” Makoto snaps, turning his face away from Sousuke and pulling his chin out of his hand. “Professor Matsumoto kicked me out of class.”

“What happened?” Haru asks as he suddenly comes around the corner, his hair damp. He’s only dressed in his swimming trunks, which irritates Makoto for no reason.

“Why do you have to walk around like that all the time? You don’t live alone anymore,” Makoto bites, his shoulders hunching and his fists clenching. Haru’s face turns indignant as Sousuke quickly reaches out and puts his hand on Makoto’s shoulders, applying gentle pressure.

“Whoa. Relax,” he demands. Makoto’s lips pinch together and he bites the inside of his cheek hard. Sousuke rubs his shoulders carefully, keeping their eyes locked and breathing deeply with him. Makoto slowly cools down, his angry flare-up dying down until he feels exhausted.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. Haru approaches slowly, brows knitted and his arms awkwardly stiff at his sides.

“I wear them because they’re comfortable,” he says quietly. Makoto’s shoulders slump and he laughs, putting on a weary smile.

“I know. I’m sorry, Haru, I was just...”

“Why’d your professor kick you out?” Sousuke asks. “C’mon. Take off your coat and shoes and... just tell us what happened.”

“I... I wasn’t doing anything,” Makoto says as he unzips his coat and shrugs it off. His hands shake as he hangs it on the hook. “Well... I mean, I guess I lost focus and I wasn’t really paying attention. And that’s my fault! But then he was asking for volunteers to answer a question, and he called on me, but I didn’t hear the question. Then he yelled at me and kicked me out of the classroom so I could read the textbook or something.”

“What the fuck is that guy’s problem? Is that the same guy who said that you should think of his class as the most important?” Sousuke asks, squinting. Makoto nods and shrugs helplessly as he toes out of his shoes and steps into the apartment. “I hate professors like that. Don’t worry about it.”

“But it _is_ the most important class,” Makoto stresses. “It’s student teaching! I have to get at least a B in it to get my degree.”

“Getting a B is easy,” Sousuke scoffs. Makoto gives him a look and he clears his throat. “Okay, I get it. But just... for the rest of the semester, just do what you have to. It’s almost over, anyway. You _could_ have him more than once a week, you know.”

“That’s true,” Makoto mumbles. He rubs his arm and shakes his head. “I just... should I send him an email or something? Or write him a letter?”

“Fuck no. Don’t give that asshole the time of day. Just do your work. What assignments do you have?”

“Just the eighty hours, the quizzes, the activity points, and the final paper,” Makoto lists. “I’ve gotten all of my in-class activities so far besides today’s, and I’m getting... okay scores on my quizzes. They’re hard, but I’m passing them.”

Sousuke smiles at that, reaching out to put a hand on the side of Makoto’s neck. Haru smiles, too, also offering a comforting hand and briefly touching his elbow.

“The final paper is worth almost half of my grade,” Makoto groans. “And it’s due in a few weeks.”

“Then get started on it sooner rather than later. Don’t wait until the last minute,” Sousuke warns. “If you score high on that and get all your hours, you’ll be fine, right?”

“Yeah,” Makoto sighs. He reaches up, resting his hand on Sousuke’s wrist. Sousuke’s eyes flick to his ring and he smiles gently.

“You’ll be fine. Don’t let today get you down. Let Professor Dick be an ass. He’s probably a stupid, lonely old man.”

“That’s a little mean, I think...”

Sousuke clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes, giving Makoto’s cheek a little pat.

“You know what I meant, smartass.”

Makoto nods and Sousuke gives his hair a teasing tug before he pulls away and turns to Haru, who just looks bored.

“Haruka and I are cooking tonight. We’re making green curry chicken. It took forever to talk him out of making it with mackerel, so you’re welcome,” Sousuke drawls, following Haru into the kitchen. Makoto trots after them, perking up.

“I love green curry,” he chirps.

“We know,” Sousuke says, pausing mid-step. Without warning, he swings around, nearly colliding with Makoto. With one fluid motion, Sousuke hooks a hand on Makoto’s neck and pulls him in for a kiss. Surprised, Makoto locks up but is quick to relax into Sousuke’s chest, his arms curled up between them. Sousuke kisses him thoroughly, never deepening it but alternating between his top and bottom lips with practiced ease. It ends with a single, slow swipe of his tongue over Makoto’s bottom lip that makes heat drop heavily into his belly. He lets out a soft sound in the back of his throat when Sousuke pulls away, and it takes a moment for his eyelids to flutter open.

“Mm?” he asks. Sousuke grins, apparently pleased with Makoto’s reaction.

“For earlier today. I wanted to kiss you but... you know,” he murmurs. In a grumble, he adds, “And I think Kisumi was threatening me.”

“If you don’t stop, I’m adding extra ginger,” Haru says loudly. Sousuke bristles.

“I’ll literally throw you out a window,” he snaps, turning and rushing to the pot on the stove. He double checks to make sure there’s no extra ginger, then scowls at Haru. “Don’t do that.”

“Makoto. Wash the rice?” Haru asks over Sousuke’s shoulder. Makoto blinks, still somewhat dazed by Sousuke’s kiss, and nods clumsily.

“Sure.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friends [Diana](http://coronaampora.tumblr.com) and [Nicole](http://syniio.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](http://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](http://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](http://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](http://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	53. Chapter 53

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Hit kind of a block with this chapter at first, erased draft after draft after draft, but some certain good news from a certain Asian country sparked a new idea, and I ended up writing all of this last night. Funny how things work that way. And I must say, this chapter felt good, and I definitely feel like it's one of the best chapters I've written yet. It almost has a 'part 1' spark to it? Maybe it's just me.
> 
> P.S, if you haven't heard the news, you should probably [check this out](http://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-32130599).

As much as Makoto wants to take things slow with Sousuke when they have sex, he always finds himself indulging Sousuke in his breathless begging. Even when he says nothing, Makoto can feel his want when he digs his fingers into his back. He can feel Sousuke’s want when he pants fast and hard in his ear, or when he locks his ankles around Makoto’s hips.

“Sousuke,” Makoto breathes, his voice alone making Sousuke moan. His hand slides down his body and he hooks his hand on Sousuke’s sweating thigh, pushing it up and back and changing the angle without warning.

Sousuke’s eyes fly open and he arches like he’s been electrocuted, cumming suddenly. He flexes so hard Makoto nearly loses his grip on his thigh. Makoto can’t help but to giggle as Sousuke curls his toes and writhes on the bedsheets through his surprise orgasm. Sousuke starts laughing, too, in erratic little puffs of air that trail off into moans as he jerks himself off through the last seconds of his climax.

“Holy shit,” he wheezes. “Don’t just randomly dickpunch my prostate like that.”

“Sorry,” Makoto laughs. He smiles and drapes Sousuke’s leg over his shoulder, kissing the inside of his damp thigh and smiling coyly. He shifts, adjusting his knees on either side of Sousuke’s hips and burying himself deeper inside of him. “I haven’t finished yet.”

“God,” Sousuke hisses, outstretching his arms. Letting Sousuke’s leg slip off his shoulder, Makoto falls forward and starts to move again, taking a moment to find his rhythm. He has Sousuke panting again in seconds; despite his oversensitivity, he seems eager to continue. His blunt nails dig into Makoto’s back and he pants roughly into his ear. He whispers hotly, “C’mon. Faster. Fuck me.”

Makoto whimpers, biting his lip and clutching at the bedsheets on either side of Sousuke’s body, moving faster and faster until their skin slaps together so loudly that he’s afraid Haru will hear them.

“I-I’m... I’m gonna--” Makoto stammers, his thrusts becoming sloppy and uncontrolled. He hunches his back, curling in on himself as his breathing comes out in harsh gasps. Sousuke grabs hold of his biceps, squeezing hard as he grits his teeth and digs his head into the pillow.

Makoto prolongs the blooming hot ache of his orgasm as long as he can, every muscle in his body pulling taut like a bow until he can’t hold it back anymore and releases with a shout. He vaguely hears Sousuke laughing and telling him to shut up, but Makoto can only whine and moan in reply.

It’s only after he’s done that he realizes that he came inside of Sousuke without a condom on.

“Oh my god,” Makoto whispers. “I’m so sorry, I--”

He feels Sousuke’s ankle at his back, tapping his heel against his ass. Sousuke grins up at him, obviously pleased with himself.

“I wasn’t going to let you pull out.”

“I--”

There’s a sharp rap at the door, followed by the sound of Haru’s tired, annoyed voice,

“I have practice at six. In _three_ hours.”

Makoto’s face turns beet red as he flaps his lips. Sousuke just sighs and wipes the sweat from his forehead.

“Sorry,” he calls. “Would it make you feel better if I told you I was the one taking it?”

“ _Sousuke!_ ” Makoto hisses.

“Yes.”

As Makoto listens to Haru’s retreating footsteps, he shakes with humiliation.

“You’re really loud when we fuck, you know,” Sousuke says matter-of-factly.

“S-Shut up!” Makoto cries. Sousuke puts his finger to his lips and grins, which only makes Makoto’s ears burn hotter.

“Come down here and kiss me,” Sousuke says, stretching his arms out above his head and leaving him open and vulnerable. Makoto perks up with interest and Sousuke jerks slightly, laughing. “Man, I can feel your dick twitching in my ass.”

Makoto shuts him up with an open-mouthed kiss. It’s sloppy and wet and maybe a little gross, too, but Makoto doesn’t mind. He slides his hands up and down Sousuke’s upper arms, then all the way up to his hands, which he pins to the mattress. Sousuke moans softly, sweetly, and the sound alone _almost_ makes Makoto want to go again.

But his stamina is completely drained and his cock isn’t hard enough to stay in place. It slips out of Sousuke as they’re kissing, making both of them shudder.

“Don’t you hate the feeling of it leaking out?” Makoto suddenly asks, halting the kiss. Sousuke just gives him an indignant look, still staring at his wet lips.

“It doesn’t really bother me. Why?”

“I can’t stand it.”

“You were the first one who suggested that we try sex without condoms,” Sousuke points out. “It’s not my fault you don’t like it and I do. I mean... did you think my jizz was just going to absorb into your ass? Or maybe you thought I was going to give you an ass baby or something.”

“No!” Makoto exclaims. Sousuke cackles and hooks an arm around Makoto’s waist. They roll over in bed, lying on their sides. Scooting forward, Sousuke makes a face.

“Move over. The sheets are all wet where I was laying.”

“Ew.”

“Makoto, help. My ass baby is leaking out.”

“Quit it!”

Sousuke laughs, grabbing at Makoto when he tries to roll away and holding him tightly by the wrists. He looks down at Makoto’s knuckles, his eyes landing on the plain silver band on his finger. Sighing, Sousuke stoops his head to kiss it.

“Are you happy?” he asks quietly against Makoto’s fingers. When he looks up at him through dark lashes, Makoto’s heart skips up a beat.

“Of course. I’m really happy,” he whispers back. He wiggles his wrists out of Sousuke’s grasp and instead takes his face into his hands. Sousuke’s eyes droop and he immediately relaxes into Makoto’s hold. Makoto continues, “I’m so happy I want to cry.”

“Don’t do that, I’ll have an aneurism,” Sousuke murmurs. He reaches out to touch Makoto’s face as well, stroking his thumb under his eye. “I don’t like seeing you cry.”

“No, I know. I meant happy tears,” Makoto explains. He blushes, unable to look Sousuke in the eye as he powers through the embarrassment. “You’re like my best friend.”

“But... dating best friends.”

“Yes,” Makoto giggles. “Dating best friends. It makes sense in my head, okay?”

“I get what you’re saying.”

“I just really love you. And I never want this to end.”

Makoto moves his hands so they’re over Sousuke’s on his cheeks, tangling their fingers together.

“Well, I didn’t just give you a promise ring for a fashion statement,” Sousuke mutters. Makoto looks at him; he’s got a blush of his own. “That’s just what I meant by it. It’s a promise ring because I’m _promising_ to be with you.”

Sousuke clears his throat, very obviously embarrassed. Makoto grins from ear to ear and scoots closer to him under the blankets.

“I love you so much,” Sousuke mumbles. He shuts his eyes, pulling Makoto’s face close and bumping their foreheads together. His voice quakes slightly as he continues, “I keep wondering when I’m going to get used to this.”

Makoto lets go of Sousuke’s hands, instead reaching out to touch his neck. He can feel his heartbeat fluttering under his skin. Part of him wants to laugh, but he knows his own heart is pounding in his chest, too.

“If someone told me in high school that one day I’d fall in love with the big guy on the Iwatobi team, I’d laugh my ass off,” Sousuke says. “Even if they told me that one day I’d turn into a god damn basket case whenever I think about the person I’m in love with, I’d tell them to go fuck themselves.”

Sousuke opens his eyes and they’re watering.

“ _Sousuke_ ,” Makoto laughs. He’s tearing up, too, just looking at Sousuke’s face. He presses their faces together, smooching him all over his cheeks and kissing the little tears away.

“I’m just emotional ‘cuz I’m tired and fried from that exam.”

“You’ve been awake for over twenty hours. I bet you’re _really_ tired,” Makoto agrees, grinning. “So sleepy that you’re _crying_.”

“Quit being a smartass and wipe that shitty grin off your face. That’s my job.”

“I love you, too,” Makoto says. He kisses Sousuke’s forehead, then tucks his head beneath his chin and buries his lips in his soft black hair. Closing his eyes, he drifts into pleasant slumber.

\---

Makoto wakes up to an empty bed, but there’s a note on Sousuke’s pillow. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Makoto yawns and grabs the note, reading it with his one eye that isn’t buried in the pillow. It’s written in pen with a bunch of things scratched out, but Makoto can still read it through the scribbles;

_went to the gym. you looked ~~cute~~ tired so I didn’t wake you up. ~~kissed you like ten times though~~. ~~kissed you.~~   ~~kis~~ you were snoring. just thought you should know. love you_

_-me_

Makoto smiles and laughs, rolling over onto his stomach and reading the note a few more times before burying his face in his pillow and snoozing for a couple more minutes. When he knows he won’t be able to get back to sleep, he sits up in bed. It’s already noon, but the sun is shining through the window and Makoto feels no guilt for sleeping in so late.

He likes these clear, snowless days. Even though there’s still frost on the ground, the sky is cloudless and the wind isn’t quite so frigid. He doesn’t have to go outside for _any_ reason today. No class, no work, and no responsibilities.

Energized by the winter sun, Makoto gets dressed and does a little tidying up in the bedroom, tossing discarded clothes in the hamper and organizing the pile of magazines Sousuke accidentally kicked over the other night. There’s only a little actual trash in the room—Sousuke has a thing about garbage on the floor, namely food. He does, however, find a paper plate that had been used for leftover pizza under the bedside table.

Once the room is (relatively) clean, Makoto sings to himself as he hoists the clothes hamper into his arms and half-walks, half-dances out of the bedroom.

He doesn’t expect to see Haru sitting at the kotatsu in the living room, silently watching him. Letting out a shriek, Makoto drops the hamper and jumps back in surprise.

“ _Haru!_ ”

“It’s noon,” Haru says flatly. He blinks and returns his attention to the sketchbook sitting in front of him. Once he’s composed, Makoto sighs and moves to pick up the hamper again.

“I thought you were still at swim practice.”

“Coach Kento’s wife went into labor.”

“Oh,” Makoto says. He watches quietly as Haru makes gentle arcing motions with his pencil, craning his neck to try and see what he’s drawing. “Is that new?”

“Yes.”

“Where’d you get it?”

“The store.”

Makoto heaves a sigh. Haru’s too engrossed with what he’s doing to pay attention. He takes the laundry hamper to the washing machine and loads it, making sure to check all of the pockets of Sousuke’s jeans. Sure enough, he finds a pair of earbuds and a few crumpled receipts, which he places carefully on the shelf above the washer and dryer.

When he returns to the living room, Haru is still there, hunched low over his sketchbook and staring intensely down at his drawing. Without a word, Makoto walks around the kotatsu to join him on the floor, leaning in to see what he’s drawing.

It’s a portrait of Sousuke.

Makoto blinks in surprise, scooting a little closer to see it better, but Haru huffs at him and shoots him an annoyed look.

“Sorry,” Makoto laughs, backing off and holding up his hands in surrender. Haru sighs but doesn’t say a word, instead looking down at his drawing and carefully brushing some eraser shavings away.

“It’s just a sketch. I need a reference,” he mutters.

“Oh! Well... I have pictures of him on my phone,” Makoto says. He pulls his phone from his pocket and starts going through his pictures. Most of them are of Sato and him, or saved pictures of cats from Instagram. There aren’t too many pictures of him and Sousuke, and even fewer of just Sousuke. Sighing, he scrolls all the way down to the last picture; it’s of Sousuke with half his face in a pillow and some homework—from nearly four years ago. Makoto hands the phone to Haru, who stares at the picture for a long time before a tiny smile appears on his lips.

“...He looks like a kid.”

“No way,” Makoto laughs, taking the phone back. He peers at the picture, unconvinced. But the longer he looks at it, the more he sees; a soft face, maybe a little baby fat still in his cheeks. Makoto slowly frowns, furrowing his brow. “...Wow. He does look really young in this picture.”

Swiping his thumb to the left, Makoto moves onto the next picture; a photo of himself with the moon in the background. He immediately flushes red.

“Oh my god,” he whines, trying to fight back his embarrassed smile and hiding his face with his hand. “I remember this. I look like a baby! That’s so embarrassing, I should delete it--”

“Why? It must be important. You’ve had it for so long.”

“True...” Makoto trails off, flipping between the two pictures. “This was after me and Sousuke met. I went back to Iwatobi and... you were there. I couldn’t sleep so I went to the top of the hill.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“I know. It doesn’t feel like four years,” Makoto murmurs. He smoothes his thumb over the picture of Sousuke. His eyes weren’t as bright back then. He didn’t smile as much, either.

“Gross,” Haru blanches, making a face. “Your puppy dog eyes are showing.”

“Shut uuup,” Makoto whines, pushing at Haru and scrolling through his pictures again. “Hold on. I’ll find a good reference picture.”

He finds one from several months ago. It’s kind of a weird shot—Sousuke’s sleeping in a library armchair with his cheek propped up on his fist. Sato had taken it, of course. Makoto remembers there being a lot of little hearts and capital letters involved in the text message. It’s a nice picture—it’s saved to his laptop, too.

“How about this?” Makoto asks, turning the phone over to Haru. He studies it for a moment, nods, and props the phone up on an empty mug sitting on the table.

“He looks stupid,” he comments, erasing Sousuke’s jaw in the sketch and redrawing it with smooth, controlled strokes. “You love this thing?”

“I think he’s adorable,” Makoto counters a little huffily. “And he’s not a _thing_.”

“How do you know he wasn’t drooling?”

“That just makes it cuter, Haru.”

“No.”

“Haru-chan.”

“ _No_.”

Makoto grins and puts his elbows on the table, watching Haru erase and redraw a couple parts of Sousuke’s face. Soon enough, the ‘sketch’ is looking more like a work of art. Makoto has no idea how Haru does it.

“That looks really realistic,” Makoto compliments him. Haru just shrugs, turning the sketchbook to a forty-five degree angle so he can draw the tiny hairs on the nape of Sousuke’s neck.

“It’s just a sketch,” Haru repeats, his voice nothing but an absent-minded mumble. Makoto rests his chin in his palms, smiling dreamily at Haru’s drawing.

“You’re really good at capturing his personality in his face,” Makoto comments again. Haru stops abruptly and looks up.

“I’m going to burn this.”

“What?! Why?”

“You’re falling in love with my drawing.”

“I’m not!” Makoto protests, laughing as Haru picks up the sketchbook and hides it from Makoto’s eyes. He looks honestly defensive, making Makoto laugh more as Haru crawls away from him. “C’mon, Haru, let me watch.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

Makoto pursues him, tongue on his upper lip. He feels like he’s eight years old again, except he’s an eight year old with rent and a mild caffeine addiction. Haru puts a stop to the chase with his back on the floor and a foot on Makoto’s shoulder, pushing him back.

“Stop that, idiot,” Haru commands. Makoto grabs his ankle and grins mischievously like he’s going to tickle Haru, but Haru quickly wrenches his foot out of Makoto’s grasp. But that expressionless face cracks anyway and he lets one of his tiny laughs, so quiet Makoto can barely hear it.

“I’m not in _love_ with that drawing,” Makoto assures him. Haru sits up and gives him a skeptical look. Blushing, Makoto fidgets and smiles sheepishly. “It’s the subject I’m in love with.”

“Ugh,” Haru groans. He shuffles back to his place at the kotatsu, settling back in to draw some more. Makoto joins him.

“Hey, Haru?”

“What?”

“Do you really not feel anything romantic for anyone at all?” Makoto asks, propping his chin on his palm.

“Nope,” Haru says simply. “I like water and mackerel.”

He pauses, glancing up at Makoto for a brief second.

“And drawing. And cooking. And my swim team. And you and Sousuke. And our friends,” Haru continues tacking on things before stopping and thinking for a moment. “...That’s it.”

“That’s really okay with you?”

“Yes,” Haru says, making Sousuke’s eyelashes just a tad longer. The detail is so vivid, Makoto can almost name each eyelash.

Not that he’s counting Sousuke’s eyelashes or anything.

“I get it,” Haru murmurs, focused intensely on his work. “Love is great. But I don’t want to kiss someone. I just want to swim.”

He straightens, tilting his head back and forth as he studies his drawing. He erases a few more sketch lines.

“I like it that way,” he says with a tone of finality. Makoto’s not sure if he’s referencing the drawing or his sexuality—probably both. Haru finally looks up from the sketch. “Is that okay?”

“Of course!” Makoto exclaims. Haru gives him a small, warm smile.

“I meant the drawing,” he says, lifting the sketchbook and showing it to Makoto. He’s never been attracted to a bunch of lines in the shape of his boyfriend’s face before.

“ _That_ is more than okay. It’s beautiful, Haru.”

“Thanks,” he says. He then rips out the page and slides it over to Makoto. “Here. Frame it or kiss it or something. I don’t care.”

“I’m not going to _kiss_ it,” Makoto groans, but the thought briefly crosses his mind anyway.

“Yes you are,” Haru says without hesitation. Makoto blushes up to the tips of his ears and stays quiet.

Haru taps his pencil against his sketchbook and starts drawing stars all over the top of the page. At first, it looks like he’s doodling, but he slowly starts placing stars with purpose. He has something in mind. Makoto watches, always fascinated with the way Haru’s brain works when he draws. It reminds Makoto of when he swims.

“...Why do you keep asking if I’m okay without romantic feelings?” Haru asks suddenly, not looking up from his drawing. Makoto, not expecting the question, hesitates.

“Oh! Um... well, I don’t know. I just worry about neglecting you again or something,” he frets, his voice trailing off a bit at the end as he looks down.

“You’re not,” Haru says simply, and that’s all Makoto needs to hear for the little ball of worry in his stomach to dissipate.

About ten minutes into watching Haru sketching (it’s a picture of the Iwatobi swim club looking up at the stars), Makoto’s phone pings at him that he’s running low on battery.

“Oh shoot, I forgot it was still on,” he says, quickly grabbing it and locking. Just as he does, however, it starts to vibrate in his hands while loudly playing the _Hana Yori Dango_ theme. Haru stares at his phone with a look of mild disgust on his face.

“Is that the theme song from that show Rin is always crying about?”

“It’s Sato’s favorite show,” Makoto groans--Sato is calling him. He brings the phone to his ear. “Hel--”

_“MAKKUN!”_

Makoto squeaks and jumps violently, nearly flinging his phone across the room.

“Wh-Wh-What is it, what is it, Sato-san?” he asks. There’s a lot of commotion on the other end—a lot of loud voices and music playing. He panics a little. “Sato-san? Where are you?”

_“Shibuya, with my moms!”_

“Huh? Shib--”

_“Turn on the news! Right now!”_

Sato abruptly hangs up and Makoto looks up at Haru, who looks equally as confused. He drops his pencil and turns to turn on the television. He flips to the news, and they’re immediately met with an explosion of colors—specifically rainbows.

“— _nd the atmosphere can only be described as electric as hundreds of residents of Shibuya, and hundreds more of those outside of the ward, line up and down the streets in celebration of what just might be a_ landmark _decision in the advancement of gay rights in Japan_ ,” a reporter says as a parade of people waving rainbow flags walk behind her. Some of them wave eagerly at the camera. A huge banner reading _THANK YOU, SHIBUYA_ in English bobs amongst the crowd. The camera breaks to two young women, one with spiked hair and a shirt with a rainbow flag on it and the other with long blonde hair tied up in a ponytail—a foreigner.

“ _I think this is a huge step_ ,” the first woman says, hooking an arm on her girlfriend’s. _“It’s super important to start somewhere. And I hope it leads to same sex marriage being legalized everywhere in Japan.”_

_“And more anti-discrimination laws,”_ her girlfriend adds, her accent thick.

_“Yeah, definitely.”_

The camera cuts away from the interview, panning over the parade again.

“ _Those looking to have a same sex marriage will be able to get their official licenses by the end of spring. While the licenses do not hold all of the same benefits as heterosexual marriages, many believe that it is a definitive step in the right direction,_ ” the reporter says. “ _Yamamoto Izumi, reporting live from Shibuya_.”

Just as the news cuts to a commercial for a new vacuum cleaner, Haru reaches out and presses the mute button on the television. For a long time, silence falls heavily in the room. Slowly, Haru turns to face Makoto, eyes wide.

Makoto’s first reaction is not to believe it—there’s no way, never in a million years. But it slowly sinks in and his eyes go wide. Blood rushes in his ears and his heart pounds hard in his chest as a shaky smile appears on his face. He laughs once, twice; two little puffs of air. He can’t catch his breath. Putting his hands over his mouth, he stares at the television as his eyes begin to water.

“ _Haru-chan_ ,” he whimpers, his voice breaking as tears begin to spill down his face. Maybe it’s because of the winter that he’s emotional, _or_ the fact that something has finally changed in this country--he’s not sure, but he sobs anyway, burying his face in his hands.

He feels Haru’s hand on his back as he’s brought into a silent hug. Makoto immediately throws his arms around him and hides his face in his shoulder.

“I can't even--I don't believe it,” he says, sounding muffled and nasally as he lets out a gross, coughing laugh. "I'm so _happy_."

Haru rubs his back and gives him a tight squeeze.

“Me too.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friends [Diana](http://coronaampora.tumblr.com) and [Nicole](http://syniio.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](http://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](http://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](http://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](http://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	54. Chapter 54

“I told you not to procrastinate.”

“I know!” Makoto whines as he wipes down the high-top table for the fifth time. Sato and Sousuke are sitting here in their usual spots, distracting him once again. He’s working today, but he’s been in a trance since Friday. Now it’s Thursday again, and he has his Field Study class in less than an hour.

“You seriously have...” Sousuke trails off, checking his watch. “... _Forty-five_ minutes to think of a topic to write for your final paper in the most important class you’re taking this semester.”

“Jeez, Sousuke, do you have a stick up your butt today or something?” Sato asks. She drinks the last of her iced coffee and gives Sousuke a look. “What the heck is your problem?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing,” Sousuke dismisses the question, waving his hand. He looks down at his coffee cup and checks his phone for the umpteenth time. Makoto looks back at the cash register, making sure it's not getting busy. When he sees his coworker, Sayuri, leaning against the counter and messing around on her phone, he returns his attention to Sousuke and Sato.

“It’s about improving the learning environment, right? Just do it on like... protection for LGBTQ kids in school or something. My mom... eh, _Teacher_ Mom talks about it all the time,” Sato suggests. “Like, you should talk about how bullying affects LGBTQ kids.”

“That’s... a really good idea,” Makoto says. He glances at Sousuke, who gives a curt nod.

“I can ask my moms if you can interview them, if you want. I mean, I don’t know how technical your paper is supposed to be.”

“That would be great! If it’s not too much trouble...” Makoto trails off. Sato nods and gives him a big, dramatic wink.

“I’ve got you covered. Oh, and--”

Sato stops without warning, making a face as she straightens slightly in her seat.

“Oh. Excuse me,” she says hurriedly, hopping off her chair. She speed-walks away, towards the nearest women’s restroom.

“She’s probably got the shits,” Sousuke mutters, taking a small sip of his coffee. Makoto lets out a nervous laugh and, making sure he’s not getting a death stare by his coworker, leans on the table and ducks his head, trying to catch Sousuke’s eyes. Sousuke is still staring at his phone, his lips thinned.

“Sousuke? What’s wrong?” he asks. He bites his lip. “...Um, listen. If this is about the whole marriage thing... I completely understand that you’re not as excited, or--”

“What?” Sousuke interrupts. He locks his phone and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Shit. I’m sorry. Can you repeat that?”

“...Okay, what happened in Shibuya might not mean a lot to you, but it means a lot to me. And I’m kinda upset that you’re just being--” Makoto begins, emotion starting to creep into his voice. Sousuke’s brows immediately furrow.

“That’s—that’s not what this is about,” Sousuke laughs quietly. Makoto blinks, taken aback as Sousuke gives him a weary smile. “I’m pretty sure I at _least_ gave you a big smile when you told me, okay? You know how hard it is to make me smile like a dumbass. This isn’t... it’s not about that at all.”

He moves his hand, discreetly resting his pinky over Makoto’s ring finger. Makoto smiles, relieved.

“Sorry. I’ve just... it’s been a pretty exciting past week, I’m a little riled up, I think,” Makoto admits. However, his smile fades. “But if that’s not the problem, then what’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Sousuke sighs. He leans back in his chair and puts his hands over his face, slowly dragging them down as he looks at the ceiling in frustration. “I’ve been restless all day. I don’t know why. I have that... that feeling where you feel like you forgot something? But I didn’t forget anything today. I checked three times.”

“Did you take your medication?”

“Yeah. Do you think it’s just anxiety acting up?” Sousuke asks, looking distressed. Makoto wishes he could reach out and hold Sousuke’s cheek, but it’s not exactly a private location.

“That’s what it sounds like,” Makoto says soothingly. “Just a little bit of anxiety. Maybe you’re just having an off day.”

“Yeah...” Sousuke trails off. He moves to pick up his phone again, but Makoto quickly reaches out and stops him with a hand over his wrist.

“Is checking your phone making it better or worse?” he asks. Sousuke heaves a sigh and flips his phone over on the table.

“Worse,” he mutters. Makoto rubs the back of his hand.

“Are you going to have an attack?”

“Nah. It’s not really aggressive today,” he says. Makoto gives him a reassuring smile.

“You’re just a little anxious. Aren’t you still waiting for exam grades to be posted?” he asks. Sousuke nods. “See? Maybe that’s what’s stressing you out.”

“Yeah,” Sousuke agrees. He takes a deep breath through his nose and releases it slowly through his mouth, his eyes closed. “I’ll try to calm down.”

“You can text me any time,” Makoto murmurs. Sousuke gives him a warm smile.

“Thanks.”

“And you look really nice today. I like this shirt on you.”

Makoto reaches out to touch the collar of Sousuke’s blue plaid shirt and picks off a hair. He gets the urge to smooth his hand down Sousuke’s chest, but he doesn’t push it. Withdrawing his hand, he nibbles his lip and fidgets with his ring.

“I should get back to work,” he sighs, glancing back at Sayuri, who is ringing up a customer. Makoto pouts, not wanting to be separated from his boyfriend just yet.

“I’ll be fine,” Sousuke assures him. “I’m just going to go to class and do my work... and then we can do something tonight. Dinner?”

“Can Haru come?”

Sousuke huffs, but Makoto gives him pouty eyes and he clicks his tongue.

“Yeah, yeah. Haruka can come, too. But if he makes a scene about mackerel, he’s walking home.”

Makoto smiles widely as Sousuke knocks back the last of his coffee, wipes his mouth, and grabs his coat from the back of the chair.

“I’m heading out. Tell Fuyumi I ditched her. I have to go to class.”

“That’s mean.”

“Maybe she shouldn’t drink coffee so fast,” Sousuke counters, a cheeky smirk on his face. But despite that, he grabs Sato’s empty cup and throws it away with his own, then gathers her coat and purse in his arms. “I’ll just wait for her outside. You need to get back to work before you get your ass fired.”

“Okay,” Makoto groans. He adjusts his apron.

“I’ll see you at home,” Sousuke says, reaching up to tousle his hair. As he brings his hand down, he kisses his fingers, then presses them to the inside of Makoto’s wrist as he passes. Red-faced, Makoto tries and fails to suppress a giddy smile.

“See you!”

When Sousuke is gone, Makoto returns to the service counter, humming as he busies himself with wiping down the counters. Nearby, Sayuri watches him with her arms crossed.

“So, what’s your boyfriend’s name?” she asks.

“Sousuke,” Makoto says cheerfully. The moment it leaves his mouth, he gasps sharply and slaps his hand over his mouth. Whirling, he turns to face Sayuri, who just gazes blankly at him—she reminds him of Haru.

“Wooow. I totally called it. Hitomi owes me a five hundred yen,” she drawls, looking entirely uninterested. Makoto feels sweat beading on his back as Sayuri picks at her nails. “I should’ve raised the stakes to a thousand.”

“Sayuri-chan, please don’t tell anyone,” Makoto begs, clasping his hands together. Sayuri glances at him, snorts, and walks forward to clasp her hand on Makoto’s shoulder. She only comes up to the center of his chest.

“It’s all good, big guy. I really, _really_ don’t care,” she assures him, her voice flat. Makoto sighs with relief as Sayuri pretends to look busy with checking the syrup bottles.

“How did you...?”

“How did I know? Are you serious? That guy is in here all the time, but only when you’re working. And he sits at the same table every time. You’ve washed that table so much, the paint’s gonna come off,” Sayuri lists. “You spend like _twenty_ minutes over there every time he’s here. Let’s see, what else... oh yeah, you guys literally have matching rings and you look at him like you look at mocha chai lattes. Hitomi thought there was no way you could have a boyfriend bigger than you, since you’re already a giant.”

“I’m not that big,” Makoto says meekly. Sayuri gives him a dry look so similar to Haru that it sends shivers up his spine.

“Whatever. That dude’s pretty good looking, though. Do you have to beat girls off of him with a stick?”

“He’s... kinda hard to approach,” Makoto laughs nervously, scratching at his cheek. “Um... girls actually flirt with me the most...”

“And let me guess. You’re super gay. Like turbo gay?”

“I still think girls are really cute!” Makoto says quickly, waving his hands and flushing red. “It’s just—”

“God, you’re such a wuss,” Sayuri groans. “But whatever. How long have you guys been dating, then?”

“Since July, in 2014. So... almost four years, now.”

“Damn,” Sayuri says. She bites her nail and nods. “Pretty dedicated, huh? You guys gonna tie the knot? I mean... didn’t Shibuya just legalize it? Kinda...? Gave you guys more rights, at least.”

“O-Oh, well... we haven’t really talked about it,” Makoto says shyly. “I mean, Sousuke was happy about the news, too, but he hasn’t really said anything other than that.”

“Ah. Commitment issues?”

“No, it’s not that,” Makoto laughs. He makes sure there aren’t any customers before leaning against the counter. “I think he’s nervous about it. Like he doesn’t really know what to do.”

“Ah. Gotcha. Cold feet, then. Are you expecting him to propose? Does that mean you’re the girl?”

“What? I’m not the _girl_ ,” Makoto says, his brows furrowing in slight offense. He crosses his arms. “That’s actually kind of ru—”

“Did you just automatically assume _he_ was gonna pop the question?” Sayuri interrupts, giving him a look. Makoto opens his mouth to speak, closes it again, and cocks his head at Sayuri in confusion.

“W-Well... not really, I mean... why...” he trails off. “...Wow, I _did_ just assume he was going to.”

“Yeah,” Sayuri says, dramatically rolling her eyes. “ _Obviously_. So if Mocha Chai Latte is getting cold feet, why don’t _you_ just do it? Problem solved.”

“Eh? _Me?_ ” Makoto asks, pointing to himself. Sayuri gives him a look as if he had just asked the most stupid question on the planet.

“Yeah, what I _literally_ just said. Why don’t _you_ do it?”

“You’re... you’re right. I’ll think about it,” Makoto mumbles. “Thank you.”

“Whatever. You guys look good together,” she says, shrugging. “And you’re pretty cool I guess. You smile a lot for someone who works at a crappy coffee place, and you’re not an asshole. And you score a ton of tips for us, too. If anyone messes with you, let me know. I’ll kick their ass.”

Makoto can’t imagine a petite person like Sayuri winning a fight, but he can definitely imagine her getting in one. He makes a mental note never to get on her bad side, and flashes her a wide smile.

“Thank you, Sayuri-chan.”

\---

“Alright, I want you all to get in your groups and discuss your topics for your final papers. Give each other constructive criticism, and don’t think you can just briefly mention your topic. I want depth,” Naoki explains as he walks back and forth in front of the classroom. Makoto keeps his head down, having vowed to himself never to look the professor in the eye again. “Share ideas, get those gears turning, I don’t want to see anyone not engaging in some active listening! Get to it.”

Naoki sends everyone loose and Makoto gathers his things. He’s in group five, which consists of three other fourth years named Nakamura, Mori, and Yoshida. They sit in the front of the classroom, much to Makoto’s chagrin. He’d much rather be in the back, where he’s less likely to be picked on by Naoki.

“Hi everyone,” Makoto greets as he takes a seat with his groupmates.

“Hey, Tachibana-kun,” Nakamura says, smiling brightly and running her fingers through her long brown hair. Makoto’s pretty sure she has a crush on him, but he smiles warmly at her anyway.

“Hey, man,” Mori says. He offers a fist for Makoto to bump, which he does with an awkward laugh. “You didn’t miss anything last week. We just got in groups to talk about stupid stuff.”

“That’s okay,” Makoto says. “It was kinda a weird day for me.”

“It was stupid that he kicked you out,” Yoshida says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. He’s a tall guy with an attractive face—certainly not as attractive as Sousuke’s, but Makoto has caught himself staring on more than one occasion. However, he has a habit of talking too much. Makoto just laughs and shrugs.

“It’s... it was kinda my fault, I mean--”

“No, seriously. It was stupid,” Yoshida interjects he glances at the professor and mutters, “He’s been an asshole the entire semester. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was divorced. Or some sort of creepy homo. Am I right?”

Makoto’s lips part as he stares at Yoshida, who laughs at his own joke and puts a smug look on his face. Shocked and mildly offended, Makoto looks away and clears his throat.

“It’s... it’s really okay. Why don’t we just... who wants to talk about their topic first?” Makoto asks, the smile returning.

“I’ll go,” Nakamura offers. “Okay, I had kind of a hard time coming up with this, but I think I can write a lot about it. I’m thinking that I’m going to write about having students get up and move around is important for learning because it gets the blood flowing.”

“That’s a good idea,” Makoto compliments. “My... eh, my best friend is a physical therapy major. He says good blood flow is important for a whole bunch of things.”

“Maybe you could talk to a physical therapist,” Mori adds. “Maybe even Tachibana’s friend.”

“...He’s pretty busy,” Makoto giggles, scratching at his cheek. “He might not have the time.”

“Yeah, right,” Yoshida scoffs. “One of my roommates when I was a first year was in physical therapy, and he said that they hardly do anything. He just sat in our room drinking all day.”

“Sou—my friend doesn’t do that,” Makoto says, trying hard not to sound too angry. “And that was a _first_ year. My friend’s a fourth year, and he’s about to go to graduate school. And he’s very busy, and stressed all the time, but he has gotten _so_ much better at focusing on his goals.”

His voice rises more than he intends before he realizes what he’s doing. His lips curve into a nervous smile and he scratches the side of his neck.

“Jeez, calm down,” Yoshida drawls. “What, do you live with him or something?”

“Yes,” Makoto snaps. He catches himself and softens his tone. “We’ve been living together for a couple years.”

Now Nakamura and Mori are glancing at each other as Yoshida smirks.

“Whoa, by yourselves? That’s pretty--”

“No, we have a third roommate,” Makoto huffs. “And this is getting _really_ off track. Nakamura-san, I’m so sorry we interrupted.”

“No, no,” Nakamura says. She glances down at the ring on Makoto’s finger and looks back up at him with a smile. Self-conscious, Makoto hides his left hand and looks down at his ‘outline’ for his topic—something he wrote five minutes before class started.

“Tachibana, how about you go next?” Mori offers. Nodding, Makoto picks up his topic sheet and adjusts his glasses.

“Um... I want to do a paper on LGBTQ kids in a school setting,” he reads. “That is, how it affects learning, and how bullying and discrimination could harm a student’s ability to do well in school. Oh, and... a friend of mine has two moms, so I think I’ll be able to interview them.”

“Sounds sweet,” Mori says. “Oh man, you should do, like... a cross-cultural study, you know? Compare Japan to a country with anti-discrimination laws and stuff.”

“That’s a good idea,” Makoto says cheerfully.

“Tachibana-kun, are you gay?” Nakamura blurts. Makoto freezes and stares at her in shock just as Naoki comes up from behind him, looming over the group.

“...Is this group off track?” he asks coolly. “Nakamura-kun?”

“I’m doing a paper on LGBTQ kids in school,” Makoto interjects. He glances at Nakamura, then back to Naoki. “I think it was just kind of a random question... it wasn’t off topic.”

“Very well,” Naoki says slowly, his eyes sliding to Makoto and staring him down. “But how about you keep your comments focused on your _papers_ rather than your personal lives.”

“Oh my god,” Nakamura whispers when Naoki walks away. “Tachibana-kun, I’m so--”

“ _Yes_ , I’m gay,” Makoto whispers. “Okay? But it really has nothing to do with this, so _please_ stop.”

Nakamura blinks, taken aback, then nods her head up and down. Mori looks surprised, and Yoshida’s messing with his phone under the table, showing no indication he’s been listening at all.

“It just... _really_ doesn’t matter,” Makoto mutters. He feels cold, like there’s a slimy hand crawling up his back. He did not want to be outed today, not once but twice, to _four_ different people. He shakes slightly, humiliated and paranoid. Under the table, he slips off his promise ring and places it in his pocket. His finger feels strange without it, and he keep rubbing at his knuckles and expecting it to be there.

So far it has caused nothing but trouble.

“Anyway, that’s what the topic of my paper is about,” Makoto mumbles, letting his topic sheet fall to the table. “I think I’ll have plenty of stuff to write about.”

He spends the rest of the class period almost completely silent, feeling further humiliated whenever Nakamura looks at him. Mori and Yoshida don’t seem to care at all, which comforts Makoto much more than Nakamura’s reaction.

Near the end of the class, Naoki comes around and passes out rating sheets for the topics discussed. Makoto gives everyone in his group high marks, commenting that everyone’s topic seemed well thought-out. After passing the sheet in, he hurries to get out of the class as soon as possible. All he wants to do is go home and have a hot chocolate. It’ll be the weekend as soon as he leaves. He’ll have to go to the high school tomorrow, of course, but at least no one there knows he’s gay.

“...chibana-kun! Tachibana-kun!”

He doesn’t notice someone is calling his name until a hand grabs his arm and pulls. Whirling around, Makoto yanks his arm away out of reflex, but stops upon seeing Nakamura standing there, wringing her hands.

“Tachibana-kun, I am so sorry,” she says, her voice frantic. “Like... it just... it just slipped out, and I really didn’t mean it. The... the truth is, I... I noticed you on the first day of class and... and I like you, so I had to ask--”

“It’s okay,” Makoto interrupts, feeling entirely uncomfortable. He gently takes her arm and leads her away from the crowd spilling out of the auditorium, taking her to a less busy hallway. When he faces her again, she’s crying. Panicking, Makoto flails and reaches out to hold her shoulders. “O-Oh no, Nakamura-san, please don’t cry, I-I... you’re very pretty, it’s just... I c-can’t--”

“No, that’s not it!” Nakamura exclaims. “No, I’m sorry that I just asked you such a rude question, and when Matsumoto-sensei was _right_ there, it was really just... so terrible. I’m sorry, Tachibana-kun. I really just... I don’t want you to hate me.”

She hiccups and wipes at her eyes, her lips pinched together tightly. Sniffling, she glances at Makoto’s hand on her shoulder.

“Wh-Where’s your ring?” she asks.

“I took it off,” Makoto says quietly. “Just... it was just causing too much trouble.”

He pauses, reaching into his pocket to retrieve his ring. He puts it back on and shows it to Nakamura, who cups his hand in hers as she looks at it.

“It’s pretty,” she giggles tearfully. “Did your boyfriend give it to you?”

“Um... yeah,” Makoto mumbles, blushing. Nakamura smiles brightly up at him, the corners of her eyes still leaking tears as she does.

“He must be really nice,” she says. “Are there any engravings on it?”

“No. It’s plain. But I think that’s what I like so much about it.”

“Sometimes things are better when they’re simple, right?” Nakamura asks. Makoto notices that she has cute dimples, and he smiles fondly down at her as he nods.

“Yes,” he agrees.

“You can call me Kimi, by the way.”

“Then... then you can call me Makoto.”

“I’d really like to be friends with you,” Kimi says quietly. “And I’m still... I’m really sorry about today. I promise, it just slipped out, and--”

“It’s okay,” Makoto assures her. Kimi smiles, looking relieved.

“Okay then! I guess I’ll see you next Thursday, then?”

“Of course.”

Kimi waves before she turns and leaves, walking with a little pep in her step. Makoto watches as she goes, scratching at his neck and feeling exhausted. A small part of him is annoyed that today of all days, everyone and their mother decided to suddenly figure out that he’s gay. Worried, he reaches instinctively for his phone to call Sousuke, but when he gets it out of his pocket, he realizes it’s dead. He huffs a sigh. He shouldn’t have been on Instagram at work—it drained his old iPhone battery.

“Ugh.”

\---

When Makoto comes home, he’s relieved to finally be able to relax and unwind from the stressful day. Hanging up his coat and kicking off his boots, he walks into the apartment and nurses the headache pounding behind his eyes.

“Haru? Sousuke?” he calls. “I’m home.”

Immediately, he hears a door slam and pounding footsteps. Haru appears in the hall, looking fearful.

“Is he going to be alright?” Haru blurts. Makoto blinks, confused, and holds up his hands.

“Huh? What?”

“...Hasn’t Sousuke called you?”

“My phone died.”

“You have to go to the hospital right now,” Haru says, quickly coming forward and putting his hands on Makoto’s shoulders. Makoto’s stomach drops.

“Wha—What’s wrong with Sousuke?!”

“Not him. His dad.”

“His da— _Iwao-san?_ What happened?”

“He had a stroke.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friends [Diana](http://coronaampora.tumblr.com) and [Nicole](http://syniio.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](http://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](http://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](http://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](http://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	55. Chapter 55

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Minor anxiety warning

Makoto power-walks through the hospital as fast as he dares. The elevator ride to the fourth floor is agonizingly slow, and he taps his foot impatiently the whole way up. As soon as the doors open, he rushes down the hall, glancing down at the slip of paper the receptionist had given him.  _Room 411… 410_ … he’s going the wrong way. Groaning, Makoto turns on his heel and heads the opposite direction.

When he finally gets to Iwao’s hospital room, he finds Sousuke pacing back and forth, one hand in his hair and the other hand holding his phone to his ear. As Makoto rushes in, Sousuke spots him and shoves his phone in his pocket.

“Where were you? I _needed_ yo--” Sousuke starts, his voice trembling. Makoto sweeps him up into his arms, holding him tightly. Sousuke immediately slumps against him, knotting his fingers in his shirt.

“Haru told me as soon as I got home. How long has it been?”

“Three hours. But he’s alive. He’s stable,” Sousuke says, sounding exhausted. He takes Makoto’s hand and leads him back towards the bed, where Makoto lays his eyes on Iwao’s body for the first time. He’s lying eerily still, but the heartrate monitor is beeping steadily beside him.

Standing beside the bed is a woman Makoto has never seen before. She looks very professional, with a pencil skirt, white blouse, and her hair pulled up in a tight bun. As she stands at Iwao’s bedside, she tacks away at a tablet with a stylus.

“Um...” Makoto starts. The woman looks up immediately.

“Ah. You must be Tachibana Makoto. I am Hirano Chizuko, Yamazaki-sama’s personal assistant and second-in-command.”

Makoto looks at Sousuke quizzically, who sighs.

“She knows everything about my dad. He talks a lot about me. And... you now, too.”

“I am not authorized to judge either of you,” Chizuko says coolly. She glances up from her tablet for a brief moment to look at their clasped hands, and gives them a small smile. “Neither do I wish to.”

“Yeah, she’s okay with it,” Sousuke murmurs, squeezing Makoto’s hand as he stares down at his father’s face. “So don’t let go.”

“I won’t,” Makoto assures him. He falls silent, frowning deeply down at Iwao. “Why did this happen?”

“The doctors said it was a blood clot. But I know he was stressed, too,” Sousuke mumbles. “Because he was working too hard. I _told_ him to take it easy, I seriously--”

“Perhaps he simply had a... _stroke_ of bad luck.”

Sousuke chokes on his own words as Chizuko speaks. Makoto’s jaw drops. Chizuko looks between the two of them and makes a face.

“Oh...I apologize,” she says quickly. “I thought it would make you laugh. It makes Yamazaki-sama laugh.”

“Sousuke--” Makoto begins, completely blown away by Chizuko’s rude comment, but Sousuke just gives her an exhausted smile.

“I know you’re nervous. You don’t have to stick around, Chizuko.”

Chizuko meets Sousuke’s gaze and Makoto finally sees it; genuine fear and worry in her eyes. She looks back down at Iwao, her lips pulled together in a tight line.

“I would like to stay,” she admits. “I feel responsible. He had been complaining about headaches lately, but… that’s pretty normal for him, and when he collapsed, I just...”

“Thank you for calling me _after_ you called the ambulance,” Sousuke says, offering her a weak smile. “And thank you for making sure he got here quickly.”

Chizuko grins a little, bites her lip, and brushes a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

“Ah... well... would you boys like some water?” she asks, composing herself and tucking her tablet in her arm.

“Sure. Two, please,” Sousuke says. Chizuko bows and leaves. He glances at Makoto and shrugs helplessly. “She’s cool. She’s been working with my dad since I was in junior high. She gets... punny when she’s nervous, or when my dad’s fried.”

He lets go of Makoto’s hand for a second to pull over two chairs, which he sets up at Iwao’s bedside. Flopping down, he waits patiently for Makoto to join him, then takes his hand once he’s seated.

“He hasn’t woken up yet,” Sousuke says, rubbing his thumb on the back of Makoto’s hand. “But he’s never had a stroke. The doctors say it’s not likely he’ll die. It’s just...”

Sousuke jiggles his leg and shifts in his seat, covering his mouth with his hand. Makoto squeezes his hand tighter as Sousuke struggles to keep it together.

“Are you okay?” Makoto asks fearfully. Sousuke shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut as his breathing grows shallow, his nails digging into Makoto’s hand and leaving angry red marks.

Chizuko returns partway through Sousuke’s anxiety attack, two bottles of water in her hand. When she spots Sousuke, she calmly sets the water aside, goes to him, and smoothes her skirt down as she crouches in front of him. She sets her hands on his knees.

“Listen, Sousuke,” she says in a calm voice. “Look at me. Your father is going to be okay. He’s going to be just fine. You heard the doctors. This isn’t going to last forever, okay?”

Sousuke splutters and his muscles tense as he nods, struggling to regain his breath. But the attack has already reached its peak and he’s calming down, his chest heaving as he takes great gulps of air.

“Deep breaths,” Chizuko soothes. “You’re all right. Do you want some water?”

He wheezes and Chizuko stands to retrieve the water bottles. She opens it for Sousuke and he takes it with a shaking hand. Makoto reaches out to steady it for him as he takes a tiny sip.

After drinking some water, he calms down considerably and now just looks embarrassed, his lips pinched together.

“Sorry about that,” he grumbles. Makoto and Chizuko both smile at him.

“Good job, Tachibana-kun,” she says, giving Makoto a thumbs-up.

“You know about Sousuke’s anxiety, too?” Makoto asks, blinking up at her. Chizuko smiles and shrugs.

“I take my job very seriously, Tachibana-san,” she says.

“...Why did this have to happen now?” Sousuke groans. He looks up at Chizuko, his brows knitted. “Chizuko... what are the chances that he’ll go back to work, even if he recovers fully?”

“Had I not been there, the damage done could have been much worse,” Chizuko says. She looks at Iwao. “We have been discussing the possibility of an early retirement, and this looks like it might be the time for it.”

“And the future of the company...?”

“I doubt your father would want you to stop pursuing your dream, even though he wishes for you to take over the company,” Chizuko says quietly. Sousuke doesn’t answer, his hand over his mouth as he thinks and stares at Iwao. “He wants you to take it over because you want to, not because you need to.”

“I’m not going to let everything my dad has built just die. Who is the vice president?”

“One has not been assigned. I have been entrusted with temporary rights to the company in the case of an emergency like this. Just until Yamazaki-sama recovers enough to assign a new president. _If_ he decides to retire, that is.”

Sousuke curses loudly, smacking his hand down on the arm of his chair and making Makoto jump.

“ _Why?_ ”

“Your father could not find anyone suitable for the job.”

“ _This_ is why he had a stroke. _This_ is why he’s here, because he insists on doing all of this on his own,” Sousuke fumes, gesturing angrily at his father. He tips his head back and shuts his eyes. “ _God_.”

“What’s going to happen now, then?” Makoto asks softly. Sousuke shakes his head.

“I have to take responsibility,” he mutters. “He’s my dad. I’m his only kid. I might have to move in with him, if he can’t get around on his own.”

Sousuke’s lips thin as his eyes darken. He holds Makoto’s hand so tightly it almost hurts, but Makoto doesn’t complain.

“...Sousuke, I have also contacted your mother,” Chizuko says slowly. Sousuke looks up sharply, the color in his face draining. “She’s flying in from Hong Kong tomorrow morning.”

“ _Why?_ Why did you call _her?”_

“She is your _mother_ ,” Chizuko says, her voice stern. “And a friend of your father’s. She has a right to know.”

“Great. So the woman who divorced my dad because she couldn’t handle his depression is coming. That’s _awesome_ ,” Sousuke says sourly, his lips curled back in a sneer. “I don’t want to see her.”

“Well, she wants to see you. And Tachibana-kun, too.”

“You _told_ her about us?!”

“Your father did.”

Sousuke smacks his forehead and tugs at his bangs, grinding his teeth so loudly that Makoto can hear it.

“ _Why?_ ” he moans. Chizuko furrows her brows.

“She knows you have her number blocked on your phone. She’s tried to call you many times, and she can only get information through Yamazaki-sama.”

“I don’t want her knowing _anything_ about me!” Sousuke barks without warning. The room falls silent, save for the steady beeping of the heartrate monitor.

“...Sousuke, I think it would be best if you go home for the night so you can get some rest,” Chizuko finally says, her voice quiet. “Obviously, this ordeal has hit you very hard. I will stay here, and alert you if anything changes.”

“She’s right,” Makoto urges, rubbing Sousuke’s arm as he seethes and grits his teeth. “Please, let’s just go home.”

“Fine,” Sousuke whispers. He gets to his feet and Makoto follows, never releasing Sousuke’s hand. Even as they leave the safety of the private hospital room, Makoto doesn’t let go. Earlier today, the thought of being out of the closet to anyone save for his closest friends terrified him, but now he holds his head high as he and Sousuke walk through the hospital hand-in-hand. Very few people actually notice them, and even fewer see that they’re holding hands. Nobody comments. Secretly, Makoto is relieved.

The drive back to the apartment is painfully quiet. The squeak in Sousuke’s back tire is more annoying than usual. Above, the darkening sky mocks them with threats of sleet, and a fog has rolled over the city, coating everything in a fine, cold mist.

“I had a feeling something was going to happen today,” Sousuke says when they pull into the parking lot of their apartment building. He shifts into park and turns off the engine, but keeps the heat on. “As soon as I woke up this morning, I knew something fucked up was going to happen. And you remember that I felt like I forgot something?”

“Of course.”

“My dad texts me every few days to tell me to have a good day at school. Or tells me some stupid pun Chizuko told him,” Sousuke explains. He tips his head back against the seat and closes his eyes. “And today I didn’t get that text. Even though he sometimes goes a week without texting me, today it felt weird. And my gut was right. I didn’t even _think_ of texting him first.”

“I’m sorry,” Makoto says. He reaches across the center compartment to rest his hand on Sousuke’s thigh, rubbing gently. “I’m so sorry. I wish there was something I could do.”

“I knew he wasn’t taking it easy,” he continues, frowning as he runs his hand along the steering wheel and stares blankly at the dashboard. “I knew...”

He sighs and squeezes his eyes shut before he drops his head into his hands and claws at his hairline. At a loss, Makoto just continues to rub his thigh and let him speak, worrying his lip between his teeth.

“I should’ve done more to stop him from doing that shit. But he’s like... he’s not that old, but with the stress he’s always in, he might as well be in his seventies,” Sousuke says, gesturing helplessly. “And I... can’t do shit about it. I mean, not without literally inheriting a huge sporting goods company with zero business experience.”

Sousuke shakes his head and smacks his forehead three times, getting increasingly frustrated.

“What do I fucking _do?!_ ” he yells.

“ _Sousuke_ ,” Makoto says. He squeezes Sousuke’s thigh. “I really wish I knew what t--”

“I don’t want to lose my dad,” Sousuke blurts, his voice quivering. “I’m afraid of losing him.”

Makoto falls silent as Sousuke looks at him, his face contorted and his brows furrowed.

“I don’t know what I’m getting so worked up about,” he laughs bitterly, reaching up to run a shaking hand through his hair. “They said he should be fine. They... they caught it in time before it did too much damage. I know that. But... look, I know stuff about the brain and diseases. And I know it’ll just get worse from here if he keeps on holding up that company by himself. His risk for another stroke is through the roof.”

“Do you know what kind of stroke he had?” Makoto asks. “...There’s different kinds, right?”

“Yeah,” Sousuke sighs. “I wasn’t really paying attention, though. I think they said it was affecting his… left brain? It was pretty hard to listen because... you know. They got him to the hospital as quick as they could, but... what if he hadn’t been at work? What if he had it in the penthouse? Nobody would know. He’d be _dead_.”

“Please stop,” Makoto pleads, rubbing Sousuke’s thigh again as he takes erratic, shuddering breaths. “Please. You’re going to give yourself another attack.”

“There are just so many things that could’ve gone wrong,” Sousuke mutters. “And the more I think about it, the more I--”

“Then stop thinking about it.”

“I _can’t_.”

Makoto frowns. He hates seeing him like this, and he hates not being able to do anything about it. Sousuke just keeps working himself up into a panic, his muscles tensing and a blood vessel on his neck bulging.

“Sousuke, you _have_ to breathe,” Makoto urges. “Because if Iwao-san has high blood pressure, there’s a good chance _you_ do, too!”

With that, Sousuke’s shoulders finally slump and he leans back in his seat. He deflates as he puts both hands on the steering wheel and bows his head. Squeezing the steering wheel with white knuckles, he visibly forces himself to take deep breaths and calm down.

“...Sorry,” he mumbles.

“I’m here for you,” Makoto soothes. “I know this is hard.”

“It just feels like it’s all coming down at once,” Sousuke whispers. Makoto squeezes his thigh.

“I promise we can get through this,” he assures him. “Please believe me. We’ve already been through some of the hardest things. We can get through Iwao-san’s stroke, too. No matter what, I’m going to be here for you.”

Sousuke gives him a smile and finally places his hand over Makoto’s, squeezing it.

“I know it doesn’t feel like you’re helping, but you are. I’d lose my mind if you weren’t here.”

Makoto smiles warmly and lifts Sousuke’s hand to kiss his fingers.

“Let’s go inside. Haru’s worried.”

“Bullshit,” Sousuke snorts, turning off his car and opening the door. Makoto follows suit and grins as he hurries around the car to meet Sousuke and take his hand. As they walk, Sousuke fidgets with his keys.

“He really was. When I came home, he came running to meet me and pretty much pushed me back out the door.”

“...Ah, jeez. So, how was your day, anyway? I probably should’ve asked sooner.”

They pause at the door while Sousuke unlocks it. Makoto shrugs.

“Oh... it was okay.”

“I know that voice,” Sousuke groans. He swings the door open and holds it for Makoto, who sighs as he steps inside and sheds his coat. “What really happened?”

“Well… a bunch of people found out I was gay today. I think Sayuri-chan and her friend Hitomi were actually _betting_ on whether or not we were dating. And Matsumoto-sensei might know now, too.  And… and then, Nakamura-san confessed to me after asking if I was gay in the middle of our group meeting.”

“Jeeeez,” Sousuke sighs. He scratches at the back of the head. “Well...”

“What?”

“Maybe it’s not a huge deal anymore, right? I mean, we’ve been together so long. I know people have seen us in public doing... boyfriend things, or whatever. You basically tackled me in front of the library last week.”

“That’s different,” Makoto frets. They walk into the living room and sit down on the couch together, where Sousuke groans and kicks up his feet on the coffee table. Haru is nowhere to be found, but Makoto has a sneaking suspicion he’s in the bath again.

“How is it different? The only reason I didn’t make out with you on the spot that day is because we were in public, not because it was _gay_.”

“I don’t feel safe,” Makoto murmurs. “I used to feel safe here. But didn’t you see the protests after Shibuya legalized same-sex marriage?”

“There are always going to be assholes in the world and on the news.”

“And they’re here, too. I know it. I just don’t want to be... ‘out’ to anyone else. Not until we’ve graduated,” he insists. He nibbles his bottom lip as he reaches out to take Sousuke’s hand. “Please?”

“...Yeah, of course. If it makes you feel safe,” Sousuke promises. Makoto closes his eyes and feels Sousuke’s hand on his cheek, smoothing back his hair and tucking it behind his ear. He leans into the touch, bumping their foreheads together and staying silent.

“Is he going to be okay?”

Makoto jumps at Haru’s sudden voice in the doorway. He turns and, sure enough, Haru is standing there in nothing but his swim trunks.

“He’s stable. The doctors said he should be fine,” Sousuke says. Makoto faces him just in time to catch him smiling a little. “Thanks for asking.”

Haru nods and pauses in the doorway, tapping his fingers against the frame and thinking to himself.

“...I could make dinner,” he finally offers. “I bought pork cutlets today.”

Sousuke immediately perks up.

“Seriously? Are you going to make tonkatsu?”

“If that’s what you want.”

Haru leaves and Sousuke looks giddy for a split second before promptly wiping the look off his face when he notices Makoto looking at him. Makoto just laughs.

“Come here,” he says, kicking his feet up onto the couch and leaning against the armrest. He opens his arms for Sousuke, who crawls to him and lies down on top of him with his head buried in his chest and his arms wrapped around his waist. The couch isn’t long enough for him to stretch out and he has to prop his calves up against the opposite armrest.

Makoto doesn’t say a word as he strokes Sousuke’s hair, starting from his hairline and going all the way down to the nape of his neck. Sousuke melts on top of him, going almost completely limp and letting out a soft groan from the back of his throat every time Makoto runs his nails over his scalp.

“Does that feel good?”

Sousuke warbles something incoherent, but it sounds like a yes, so Makoto gladly continues.

“Do you want to watch a movie to help keep your mind off of it?”

He gives a single, weary shake of his head.

“You just want me to keep holding you like this?”

A nod.

“Okay,” Makoto whispers, smiling. He can hear Haru moving pots and pans in the kitchen. The heater lets out its usual _clunk_ before warm air spills into the apartment through the vents and fights off the chill. Makoto’s wristwatch ticks at a steady pace, joining the chorus of white noise.

As Sousuke’s breathing begins to even out, Makoto slows the rhythm of his petting but doesn’t stop. It’s the least he can offer Sousuke; a steady hand moving from his hairline to the top of his head to the nape of his neck, pause, repeat. Stability in an unstable time. Something to keep him grounded.

Sousuke falls asleep peacefully, and only then does Makoto’s hand slide down from the nape of his neck to stop between his shoulder blades. His hair is a mess now, a little greasy from being grabbed at and pulled and tousled and stroked all day long, but Makoto doesn’t mind.

He doesn’t realize how long he’s been holding Sousuke until Haru comes into the living room again.

“Dinner’s ready,” he announces. He lowers his voice when he sees Sousuke. “Is he sleeping?”

“Yes,” Makoto whispers. He rubs Sousuke’s back as Haru pads to the couch and sits cross-legged in front of it. For a long time, he just looks at Sousuke, before he finally lifts a hand and rubs Sousuke’s bicep up and down, starting from his shoulder to his elbow and back again. Makoto watches, mystified that Haru would willingly be affectionate with Sousuke.

“He’s sleeping. It doesn’t matter,” Haru answers Makoto’s thoughts, but he doesn’t stop.

“Thank you for getting his favorite,” Makoto says. “Really. I think it’ll help a lot.”

“Mm,” Haru grunts. He watches Sousuke closely, and Makoto can’t help but smile fondly down at him.

“You love him too, don’t you, Haru?”

“Not really,” Haru mutters, making a face. Makoto knows better than to push his luck, but Haru’s eyes are enough of an answer for him, anyway.

“I wonder if Rin knows...” Makoto murmurs as the thought passes his mind.

“Rin was the second person he called after you,” Haru says. “Sousuke was on the phone with him as he was running out the door. Why?”

“Rin is the only other person I can think of who knows Iwao-san as well as I do. Probably even more, if he spent a lot of time with Sousuke when they were younger,” Makoto says. “And I think Rin is the type of person who would want to know that sort of thing.”

“Maybe he cried.”

“He didn’t, actually,” Sousuke suddenly mutters, startling Makoto. Sousuke turns his head so he’s facing Haru, his eyes still half-closed. “He sounded like an idiot, though. Yelled at me ‘cuz he thought I was pulling his leg.”

Haru takes his hand away from Sousuke’s bicep. Makoto’s a little disappointed that such a cute moment ended, but before he can say anything, Haru reaches out and puts his hand on Sousuke’s cheek instead. Makoto thinks it was meant as a comforting gesture, but Haru’s hand lands on Sousuke’s face a little too hard, effectively turning it into a soft slap. Sousuke wrinkles his nose.

“What the fuck?”

“Sorry your dad is in the hospital,” Haru mumbles. He awkwardly rubs Sousuke’s cheek, too hard at first. Sousuke grumbles against Makoto’s shirt, squeezing his eyes shut. “Sorry Sou-chan is having a bad day.”

“Don’t call me Sou-chan, _Haruka_.”

“Drop the ‘-ka’.”

Makoto laughs as Haru pinches Sousuke’s cheek and makes him growl and smack at his wrist to fight him off. But Haru’s hand relaxes after a moment and smoothes over Sousuke’s cheek.

“...I really am sorry.”

Sousuke unwraps one arm from Makoto’s waist and reaches out to put his hand on the crook of Haru’s neck.

“Thank you,” he mumbles, muffled against Makoto’s shirt. “It means a lot.”

After a moment, Sousuke lets his hand fall from Haru’s shoulder and he lifts his head, his messy hair falling all over the place and his eyes still bleary from sleep.

“Did I hear that dinner was ready, or was that just a dream?”

“It’s ready,” Makoto confirms. Haru stands as Makoto and Sousuke attempt to untangle themselves and get up from the couch. “I’ll help set the table.”

“Good. Sousuke, can you take care of drinks?” Haru asks.

“I need a beer,” Sousuke groans, stretching his left arm high above his head and popping his back. “Do you guys want a beer?”

“Yes.”

“ _Definitely_.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friends [Diana](http://coronaampora.tumblr.com) and [Nicole](http://syniio.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](http://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](http://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](http://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](http://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	56. Chapter 56

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Big announcement! The second official FEFSKY album, 'Chasing the Sun', will be released on May 1st, 2015 at noon EST (same time of day that chapters always update). So get ready for that! If you haven't listened to the first album, [here's the link.](http://8tracks.com/porrimicide/something-i-need)

At four in the morning, Sousuke’s phone vibrates and stirs Makoto awake. Beside him, Sousuke snorts and awakens abruptly. Rolling over, he grabs his phone and brings it to his ear.

“Yeah?” he says groggily. “...He did? Alright... okay. Yeah. I’ll be there in a little bit... no, it’s fine. Yeah. Thanks. Bye.”

Sousuke lets out a long sigh as he hangs up the phone and rolls onto his back.

“Mmm, who was it?” Makoto asks, rubbing Sousuke’s abdomen back and forth and shutting his eyes.

“Chizuko. My dad woke up,” he murmurs, sitting up. Makoto’s arm falls in his lap. “I’m heading over there right now.”

“I’ll come with yo--”

“No, you need to go to the high school. But you’ll come after, yeah?”

“Mmhm.”

“Okay. Get some more sleep. I’ll text you.”

“Mm.”

Sousuke leans down to kiss Makoto’s cheeks, then his lips.

“Love you.”

\---

Makoto does his best not to worry while he works, but he can’t help but slip out to check his phone every half hour or so, silently praying for word from Sousuke. By the end of the fourth period, Makoto’s neck is stiff and his eyelid has begun to twitch. One of the students—a young girl with bright eyes and chubby cheeks—asks him if he’s okay during lunch, and even sits with him to talk to him about cats. The short reprieve from worry puts Makoto at ease, but when fifth period starts and bleeds into sixth period, he’s getting tense again.

“Tachibana-kun.”

Makoto jumps in the middle of packing his things, spilling pencils on the floor of the teacher’s lounge. He swings around to face one of the faculty members and his direct supervisor for student teaching.

“Endo-san. I’m sorry, I just--”

Endo smiles. He’s an older, balding man with a thick neck and a cheery smile. It’s difficult to be too tense around him, but Makoto has a feeling he’d be a scary person to be around when he’s angry.

“No need to apologize. Actually, I wanted to talk to you about a slight situation with the students.”

“A situation?” Makoto frets, adjusting his slacks before bending down to grab the rest of his spilled pencils. Organizing them in his hand, he flashes Endo a worrying smile. “What’s wrong?”

“Well, I hate to burden you with this, Tachibana-kun, but it seems some students have started to spread rumors about you--”

Makoto feels his face and body flush with heat as panic sets it. He struggles not to let his jaw drop. One of his groupmates. One of his groupmates in his Field Study class must’ve somehow—

“They’re saying you have a special _someone_. I think the girls are jealous,” Endo chuckles, gesturing to Makoto’s ring. Immediately, Makoto grabs his hand and wrings it. His muscles pull taut and he desperately wants to run or dive out the window or at least bury himself in five feet of sand. “You’re quite popular, you know.”

“I... don’t know if that’s a good thing,” Makoto says weakly, letting out a nervous laugh and rubbing at his neck. His discomfort is growing at the minute. “I mean... they’re... really, really young, sir--”

“Gaaah, you were in high school only a few years ago,” Endo booms, letting out a loud laugh and clapping Makoto on the shoulder. “You don’t have to be so modest. Unless that special lady in your life is really worth it.”

Makoto presses his lips together and fights back a grimace as his gut twists painfully and his throat tightens. He’s reminded of the young girl with cheeks still chubby from baby fat. His desperation to get out of the building swells and it takes all of his strength not to wrench his shoulder away from Endo’s hand.

“I’m sorry, I have to be somewhere,” Makoto says in the softest, gentlest tone he can manage, even though he feels like screaming. Ducking out of Endo’s grasp, he pulls on his coat and slings his backpack over his shoulder. “Um... thank you for... telling me about the situation.”

Endo just laughs and Makoto bows his head as he hurries out of the lounge and speed-walks down the hall as fast as possible. Before now, he always had an uneasy feeling around Endo, but not because of this. He waves goodbye to a group of boys in the homeroom he supervises, trying not to look strained as he gets to the stairs and descends as fast as possible.

Later, he’s able to calm down on the train ride over to the station by the hospital. He keeps his nose in a book, but continues to glance at the promise ring on his finger. This is perhaps the third or fourth time it has caused him trouble. Looking at it now makes his heart ache, and he wonders if it’d just be better to wear it on a chain around his neck.

By the time he gets to the hospital, he’s exhausted and overly sweaty from the cramped train. The last thing he wants to do is deal with any more drama, but he makes himself trudge up the stairs to the sidewalk and makes his way towards the hospital. He glances tiredly up at the gray sky. It’s threatening to snow again. The thought adds even more weight to his shoulders.

It’s not too busy today, but the bustle in the hospital is enough for Makoto to feel somewhat anxious to get out of the lobby. He boards the elevator and smacks the button for the fourth floor. However, the elevator makes a stop on the third floor and Makoto feels a small twinge of impatience. But when the doors open, he’s surprised to see a very disgruntled-looking Sousuke.

“Makoto,” Sousuke says, his eyebrows rising. “Hey. You didn’t text me, I didn’t know if you were coming right here after school.”

“Um...” Makoto trails off, his brows slowly knitting as he glances at the floor number. “You... know you’re on the third floor, right?”

Sousuke doesn’t answer, instead stalking onto the elevator with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“I’m tired, okay?” he says. Sure enough, deep black bags hang under his bloodshot eyes. Makoto thinks he might’ve been crying at some point, but he doesn’t press the issue. Instead, he nibbles his lip as they ride up to the fourth floor together.

“Sousuke, did you get los--”

“No. _I_ was fine,” Sousuke snaps. “I went with my mom to help her find some coffee, I went to the bathroom, and when I came out, she wandered off.”

“Your... ah, your mom’s here?”

“Yeah,” Sousuke grumbles. “I’ve been looking for her for the last twenty minutes. And then I didn’t know where the hell I was.”

Makoto’s lips twitch and he tries not to laugh as the elevator doors slowly roll open and Sousuke marches out ahead of him. He takes a wrong turn almost immediately, heading right when he should be heading left.

“...Um, Sousuke, it’s this way,” Makoto says gently. Sousuke halts in his tracks, swings around, and clicks his tongue as he hunches his shoulders and goes in the opposite direction. Giggling, Makoto walks alongside him. “Maybe you should take a nap.”

“Don’t make fun of me,” Sousuke bites. Makoto just smiles sweetly.

“I’m not.”

Sousuke flashes him a look as they turn the corner and head to Iwao’s room.

“You’re really cute, Sousuke.”

“Ugh,” Sousuke groans, rolling his eyes as he reaches for the door. He pauses, however, and glances over his shoulder. “Uh... listen, my dad is fine, but he’s... well, he’s... not _all_ the way there, but he’ll know if you’re talking about him. So like... don’t talk like he isn’t there.”

“Okay.”

“And keep things kinda short and simple.”

“Alright.”

“And his eyes are twitching a little, don’t--”

“Sousuke,” Makoto laughs softly. He reaches out to put his hand on Sousuke’s arm. “I won’t, I promise.”

Sousuke lets out a sigh and nods once before finally swinging the door open. They step inside together, where Iwao is propped up into a partial sitting position on his hospital bed as Chizuko sits beside him. She’s dressed much more casually today, and her hair is even down.

“Hi, Chizuko-san,” Makoto says quietly, lifting his hand in a wave. She smiles back at him and returns her attention to Iwao. Makoto follows her gaze. Iwao is looking at him. His face looks contorted for a moment, and it takes a moment for Makoto to realize the grimace on his lips is supposed to be a smile. Grinning back, Makoto hugs his coat close to his body and comes forward to the hospital bed. “Hi, Iwao-san. How are you?”

Iwao lets out a soft hum, tilts his head a little, and moves his shoulder.

“Eh,” he answers, his cheek moving into another partial smile. It’s infectious. Makoto beams at him as he takes a seat in one of the chairs by the bed. Sousuke moves to flop down beside him, exhaling slowly.

“Umm...” Makoto trails off. He glances at Sousuke and Chizuko, then back to Iwao. “Is it okay if I ask Sousuke some questions about what happened?”

Iwao takes a long while to answer, his right eye narrowing slightly.

“Ye-a,” he says haltingly, his voice throaty.  

“It was... the left side, right?” Makoto asks. Sousuke nods.

“Yeah.”

“So... it affects the--”

“Right side of his body, left side of his face. Mostly paralyzed. He’s actually a little better than he was this morning. He could barely talk when he first woke up,” Sousuke says. There’s a hint of pride in his voice. “The nurses said he’ll just keep getting better faster and faster as he goes.”

“Me...i?” Iwao asks. He makes a somewhat jerky hand gesture with his left hand. Makoto tilts his head in confusion, but Sousuke heaves a sigh.

“I don’t know where she went. She wandered off.”

“Ehe,” Iwao grunts. Makoto only realizes he’s laughing when Sousuke flares up.

“Don’t even think about it.”

Iwao’s eye twinkles.

As if on cue, there’s a soft knock at the door before it slowly swings open. A nurse appears with an older woman behind her. She’s tall and pretty, with a soft, plump body and a kind face. Her hair, black and streaked with gray, is pulled into a ponytail that runs from her shoulder down to the middle of her upper arm. Her eyes—deep blue and lined with crow’s feet and slightly smudged makeup—land immediately on Makoto.

“Oh,” she says. “You must be Makoto?”

“Yes,” Makoto answers, standing immediately. “And you’re... Sousuke’s mom, right?”

“Tsang Mei-kuan,” Sousuke’s mother introduces herself, stepping forward and smiling as Makoto bows. “You can call me Mei.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” he says cautiously. He remembers that she knows about him and Sousuke and tenses up, wondering how she truly feels about it.

At least she hasn’t slapped him or anything.

“Where did you go?” Sousuke asks, looking over his shoulder but not meeting Mei’s eyes. She laughs in a way that reminds Makoto of Sousuke.

“Oh, I thought I’d make my own way back. But that didn’t quite work out,” she admits, waving her hand dismissively. With that, she goes to Iwao’s bedside and leans down to put her hand over his. “How are you doing?”

Iwao just gives her his partial smile, looking just as warm as he did when Makoto walked in. Sousuke, on the other hand, just sighs and moves to get to his feet.

“Well, we should probably head out. I’m tired. Makoto?”

“You’re leaving already?” Mei asks, turning to face Sousuke with a frown. Sousuke shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah. Later.”

He brushes past Makoto to leave the room. Makoto flashes the others an apologetic smile before following Sousuke into the hallway. They’re not even a hundred feet away from the door when Mei rushes out after them, her brows knitted.

“Sousuke,” she calls. Sousuke pauses and turns, his face a cold, blank slate. Mei comes forward, her hands clasped together and her the skin around her eyes creased with emotion. “Please stay. I’m heading back home tomorrow afternoon, and we still haven’t talked.”

“I graduated high school, quit swimming for good, got a couple surgeries on my shoulder, and found a boyfriend. Oh. I got accepted into grad school,” Sousuke lists. His voice turns bitter, “That’s what happened since you left. I’ve been up since four, I want to go home and take a nap before I have to go to work.”

Mei glances at Makoto, who just averts his eyes. He’s not sure how he should be reacting to this—Mei seems nice, of course, but Sousuke looks at her like she’s the devil.

“I _tried_ calling you. I _wanted_ to stay in your life, but you wouldn’t let me,” Mei stresses, making a pleading gesture with her hands that just deepens the scowl on Sousuke’s face.

“I wonder why that is.”

“I... Sousuke, things just didn’t work with your father and I. I know you both hold bad feelings for me because of that. Your father is trying to understand. Please, I want you to try to understand, too. I was young, and I couldn’t understand how your dad felt, I didn’t... I felt like a bad person, I felt like I couldn’t be with him because I couldn’t make him happy. And it broke my heart--”

“You had a _kid!_ ” Sousuke snaps, his voice initially coming out as a bark. He lowers it as a nearby nurse shoots a look at them. Mei pinches her lips together and doesn’t say a word, her eyes watering. Clicking his tongue, Sousuke turns away and grabs Makoto’s wrist, pulling him towards the elevators. Makoto glances over his shoulder and sees Mei with her head in her hand.

“Sousuke,” Makoto tries. “Sousuke, I don’t think--”

Sousuke pulls insistently on his hand, but Makoto digs in his heels and forces Sousuke to stop.

“I don’t think you should just leave it at that. She’s leaving soon,” he frets. Sousuke looks at him, eyes burning, and lets out a disgusted noise before releasing Makoto’s wrist.

“Whatever,” he mutters. Stuffing his hands back in his pockets, he trudges back to his mother. Makoto trails behind him, but keeps a little distance.

“I never wanted it to end up like this,” Mei starts quickly. “And I didn’t--”

“Look,” Sousuke says lowly. “Mom.”

Mei looks up, swiping away a tear with her index finger. As she meets Sousuke’s eyes, her face contorts again and she lets out a soft sob. As she puts her forehead back in her hand, Sousuke makes an uncomfortable face and awkwardly reaches out to put his hand on her shoulder.

“I don’t... know if I’m ready to just let it go,” he mutters. “So... can we just start with emails? Some kind of online messaging, and then _later_ we can do phone calls or something?”

Mei chokes out a laugh and looks up at Sousuke, her lips trembling as she smiles.

“Y...You know I’m bad with technology,” she says. Sousuke huffs a breath through his nose and offers her a small smirk.

“Well you better figure it out,” he says. He hesitates, looking like he’s about to pull away, but he keeps his hands on her shoulders. “I can’t get over everything that happened in a day.”

“Alright,” Mei sniffles, her eyes drying. She glances at Sousuke’s forearm. “Your father had been sending me pictures, but I didn’t know you got this big. I wish I hadn’t... missed so mu--”

“Stop,” Sousuke says. “You’ll make yourself cry.”

Mei nods once, then lifts her arms like she’s going to hug him, but she stops. Hesitating, she carefully cups Sousuke’s face in her hand. Sousuke locks up, looking like he might recoil.

“Hey,” Mei says quietly, thumbing his cheek. “Dad’s going to be just fine.”

Sousuke pinches his lips together tightly, his hands trembling as he tightens them into fists. His shoulders slump, releasing tension Makoto didn’t know he had been holding.

“Thanks, Mom,” he says. His voice cracks.

“Go home and get some sleep. I will have Chizuko give me your email. And I’ll keep your dad company until I have to leave,” Mei says. Makoto blinks, surprised at her sudden turnaround. It occurs to him that Sousuke’s strength comes just as much from his mother as his father. As he’s busy admiring Mei, he almost doesn’t notice she’s looking straight at him and saying, “And by the way, your boyfriend is very cute.”

“Jeez,” Sousuke groans, reaching up to scratch at his neck as Mei releases him to instead go to Makoto.

“You’ve been with Sousuke for how long?” she asks. Makoto blushes and smiles nervously.

“Um... almost four years,” he says quietly. Mei smiles.

“Well then, congratulations,” she says. There’s a bit of an awkward pause before she turns to face Sousuke again. “I’d better... head back in. I love you.”

Sousuke shifts uncomfortably.

“Uh... me too,” he mumbles. Mei smiles brightly.

“Goodbye, then. Drive safely.”

“Have a safe flight,” Makoto says warmly, hoping to leave the conversation on a positive note. Once Mei is gone, Sousuke silently turns and continues down the hall to the elevators. Makoto trots behind him, wracking his brain for something to say.

“That was weird,” Sousuke mutters under his breath, rolling his eyes back to look at the ceiling of the elevator as he taps his toes and crosses his arms.

“Does she really support us?” Makoto asks, almost in disbelief. Sousuke shrugs his left shoulder.

“Dunno. Maybe. She was probably sucking up a little,” he says. The doors roll open and Sousuke and Makoto (with Makoto leading) make their way toward the front exit. Letting out a huge yawn, Sousuke says, “I’m not complaining.”

When they get in the car, Sousuke takes an abnormally long time to put his key in the ignition and start the car.

“Do you need me to set up the GPS?” Makoto asks, a teasing lilt to his voice. Sousuke doesn’t smile, though, rubbing the steering wheel and frowning at it.

“Look. I didn’t want to say anything in there. But I’m kind of pissed off.”

“Why?”

“Don’t... try to fix my relationships,” he mutters. “There’s a reason me and my mom don’t get along. And there’s a reason I don’t get along with my dad, too. I didn’t need you telling me to turn back and have some heartfelt conversation with the person who made my dad almost work himself to death.”

“I did that because I knew you’d be anxious about it later,” Makoto counters. “You’d have an anxiety attack because you made her cry.”

“Don’t _predict_ my attacks.”

“I’m not!” Makoto exclaims. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just you get really upset when you make people cry.”

“Yeah, okay, it’s different with my mom.”

“I really don’t think it is, Sousuke.”

“You don’t know _shit_ about it!” Sousuke yells. Makoto lets out a frustrated groan and crosses his arms as he looks out the window. Shifting into reverse, Sousuke pulls out of the parking space and drives off.

“I wasn’t trying to embarrass you or put you in a weird situation, _okay?_ ” Makoto huffs, voice bitter. “So please don’t _scream_ at me.”

“I _didn't_. Look. You didn’t grow up with divorced parents, so I don’t expect you to get it. It’s a lot of bad feelings and grudges and everyone thinks they’re the victim. My mom hasn’t really been my _mom_ for years. I wanted things to stay that way. I know you’re all about fixing things and making relationships better or whatever, but some relationships just stay shitty and they don’t change. It’s not something I wanted to fix. But now I have to dig into things I don’t want to, and _I’m_ the bad guy for not talking to my mom. That’s how she works. She plays the victim. It was my _dad’s_ fault she couldn’t make him happy. It’s _my_ fault for not wanting to have anything to do with her after she left him,” Sousuke explains. “I’d rather just forget about it.”

Makoto opens his mouth to disagree, but instead lets out a haughty sigh and tightens his crossed arms.

“I’m going to talk to her,” Sousuke says quietly. “We’ve tried it before. Maybe it’ll be different this time. I’m going to try, if that makes you happy. So don’t be mad at me. Please.”

“I’m not mad,” Makoto mumbles, rubbing his temples. “I’m just frustrated.”

There’s a long silence that follows. Makoto leans his elbow on the door and puts his cheek in his hand. A headache blooming in the back of his skull has him closing his eyes, hoping to will it away.

“I’m sorry for yelling,” Sousuke finally says. Makoto lifts his head and heaves a sigh, nodding.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry for putting you in a weird spot.”

“It’s fine.”

Sousuke glances over and gives Makoto a small smile, which he returns tiredly.

“So anyway... you look like you’ve had a shitty day.”

“Don’t get me started.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friends [Diana](http://coronaampora.tumblr.com) and [Nicole](http://syniio.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](http://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](http://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](http://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](http://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


	57. Chapter 57

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW
> 
> Hey guys!! It's been FOREVER since I updated, and I sincerely apologize for that. For those not following my tumblr account, here's the long, annoying story:
> 
> Finals week was coming up a month ago (the last time I updated), and since then I released the second FEFSKY album, Chasing the Sun on May 1st. By the way, you can listen to this mix by clicking [here](http://8tracks.com/porrimicide/chasing-the-sun). Please check it out! And then finals week hit and... that was a lot of tears and blood, but I ended up getting an A- overall in anatomy, and As and Bs all around for my other classes! So, I had a very successful semester. Then, on the literal last day of school, everything went to shit. I was lined up for an internship with my company that would earn me big bucks this summer in order to pay off a 2600 dollar car (now 2800 dollars with license plate fees and whatnot) that I bought from my parents. Because of this internship, I was termed (or terminated) from my previous job with the same company. Well, it turns out that the representative that I was talking to completely glossed over important requirements for the job and, long story short, I did NOT have an internship lined up. So summer began and I didn't have a job. This past month has been spent... scrambling, crying, clawing for a job. Fortunately, my company was hiring for other positions, so I signed back on with them. I think the people who fucked me over felt bad or something.
> 
> So that's that. tl;dr: it's been a stressful month and I finally was able to sit down and write yesterday. Actually, I wrote more yesterday than I had in the past month, if you can believe it.
> 
> So... please enjoy this chapter! And if you're on tumblr, please be sure to like and reblog to support--I don't know how many people may have unfollowed the tag since the last time I've been here.

On Saturday, Rin flies in to visit Iwao with Sousuke. Makoto stays home with Haru, watching him clean a mackerel for dinner later in the evening and grimacing at the cold, dead fish eyes staring back at him.

“It’s not going to hurt you.”

“It’s gross,” Makoto whines, tapping his fingers together. He squeaks and jumps back when Haru lifts the dead fish and lunges it at him. “Don’t!”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Haru deadpans, coming closer and holding it out to Makoto. Makoto lets out a sound that shouldn’t be made by human mouths and dances out of the kitchen and into the hallway. Haru follows, his face blank but his lips twitching.

“Haru, _quit_ it!”

“Are you afraid of a dead fish?”

“ _Yes!_ ”

Without warning, the front door opens to reveal Rin and Sousuke. Sousuke immediately grimaces, but Rin barks out a laugh.

“Haru, what the hell are you doing?”

“Scaring my boyfriend,” Sousuke mutters, stepping inside and taking off his coat. Rin adjusts his duffel bag on his shoulder and comes forward to give Haru a quick one-armed hug. Haru lifts the mackerel out of the way and Makoto gags as a drop of blood drips onto the floor. Sousuke bristles, pointing to the kitchen. “You’re making a mess, put that thing back in the kitchen!”

Rin laughs and releases Haru, who looks entirely indifferent as he takes the fish back to the kitchen.

“Sousuke’s being a grump,” he teases. Sousuke wrinkles his nose.

“No, I’m not. He’s lucky this is hard floor, because that would’ve stained carpet,” Sousuke nags. As he does, Rin slowly rolls his eyes back and pretends to lose focus, further annoying Sousuke, who reaches out and shoves his shoulder.

“You guys are so damn wound up. How do you shit with your asses clenched so tight?”

“Rin!” Makoto gasps, scandalized. Sousuke groans as he pulls a wadded tissue from his coat pocket and wipes off the fish blood on the floor.

“Well, my dad had a stroke, and my exam results still aren’t posted, and I have to deal with four people in the apartment for a week.”

“Which is _why_ we should do something about it,” Rin presses. “Like, you know. Go bar hopping? Karaoke?”

“Why is your solution to de-stress always drinking?”

“I’m an adult.”

Sousuke lets out a grunt and walks into the kitchen to throw away the tissue. Rin follows and Makoto trails behind, perked up in slight interest but keeping quiet.

“C’mon. It’s Saturday. Let’s do karaoke. Kisumi’s in town, right? Call him up.”

“No,” Haru and Sousuke say simultaneously. Rin huffs.

“Look, man, I’m doing this because I’m worried. Your shoulders have been up to your ears since we left the hospital,” he says, mimicking Sousuke by hunching his shoulders.

Sousuke’s shoulders immediately fall as he turns to face Rin.

“You’re worried, so you want to get me drunk.”

“Not shitfaced,” Rin defends himself, holding up his hands. “Just like... enough to help you loosen up a bit. You all need it. Well, except Haru. I don’t think anyone can be as loose as Haru.”

“Haruka’s idea of stress is not getting the best fish from the market,” Sousuke snaps.

“I have a mackerel standard,” Haru counters.

“Literally every time I’m here, there’s some drama going down. You don’t have to drink, Sousuke. Just spend some time without a stick up your ass. Put something else there instead.”

“I’m sure glad the relaxation _guru_ showed up,” Sousuke says sarcastically, his lips drawing back as he stalks out of the kitchen. Rin rolls his eyes and shakes his head at Makoto.

“Can’t you charm him into going out or something?”

“I would love to go out. But... karaoke seems a little--”

“Oh, you’re singing. If we do karaoke, I won’t let you leave until you sing.”

Makoto whimpers.

“If your idea of a good time is staying at home and having a movie night, that’s fine, too. The point is, I’m worried about Sousuke. If he stays stressed like this all the time, he’ll end up like his dad.”

“He can’t really help it,” Makoto defends him. “He doesn’t have an off switch on his anxiety.”

“But he has at least a little control over his environment,” Rin reasons. “Look, I’m not trying to poke at his anxiety or make it worse. But I know when he needs to shake off some of the weight he keeps loading onto his shoulders, you know?”

“I guess you’re right,” Makoto sighs. “I’ll go talk to him.”

Rin puts on a shark-toothed grin.

“Sweet. I’ll stay here and keep Haru out of trouble.”

“Alright,” Makoto says, leaving Rin to harass Haru and probably challenge him to some sort of cooking-related competition. He searches the apartment until he finds Sousuke in the bedroom, lying in bed and facing the wall. He’s playing a bubbly game Makoto doesn’t recognize on his phone.

“Rin or Makoto?” Sousuke asks. Makoto shuts the door softly behind him. “...Makoto.”

“You used to lie down on my bed in the dorm room and play with your phone while you waited for me to get ready,” Makoto comments. Sousuke pauses and rolls onto his back, pressing his phone face down on his chest.

“I was mostly trying not to peek at you while you were changing,” he murmurs, smiling. Makoto clears his throat and tries to suppress the blush that springs to his cheeks. He sits down on the edge of the bed and puts his hand over Sousuke’s stomach. Sousuke groans, “Did Rin tell you to come in here and convince me to go out tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you going to?”

“Do you want me to?”

Sousuke smirks, grabbing Makoto’s hand and tugging him down to kiss him. In his enthusiasm, Sousuke bumps their noses together but doesn’t hesitate to cup Makoto’s neck in his hands and massage the column of his throat with his thumbs. A soft moan leaves Makoto’s lips, only for Sousuke to swallow it with his kisses. His tongue slides along Makoto’s bottom lip and Makoto lets him in without hesitation, his eyelids fluttering as Sousuke kisses him breathless.

“I’d rather stay home and do this,” Sousuke mumbles against Makoto’s lips, gently pulling him away and looking up at him with a tired smile.

“Rin wants us all to spend time together,” Makoto reminds him. Sighing, Sousuke shuts his eyes and lets his hands fall down over his head.

“If it’s what he wants, I guess. I just don’t want to get plastered.”

“Mm,” Makoto hums. He pets Sousuke’s chest, admiring the warm muscle of his pecs, and lowers his face to the crook of his neck. Peppering his neck with light kisses, Makoto runs his hand to Sousuke’s right shoulder and squeezes lightly. “How’s your shoulder doing?”

“Good. It’s good,” Sousuke says. “It’s still stiff, but I think it’s because it’s winter. But there isn’t sharp pain anymore.”

Makoto smiles and rubs his shoulder, his thumb sneaking under the collar of his shirt and tugging it down. The scar from his first surgery is still there, along with a keyhole scar from the second. Makoto kisses them both, warming them with his lips.

“Let’s go out,” Makoto says, sitting up and pulling Sousuke’s hand into his lap. He plays with his fingers, curling them into a fist and opening them up again. “I’m worried about you.”

“Why are you worried?”

Makoto doesn’t say anything, chewing on the inside of his lip. Telling Sousuke he’s worried he’ll have a stroke because of all the stress he’s under almost sounds stupid, so he debates whether he should say anything at all. He stays silent for a while, until Sousuke lets out a snort.

“I won’t let myself get so stressed I have a stroke or something,” Sousuke says, a slight lilt in his voice as he smirks. Makoto sighs.

“I _know_ , it was stupid to think that--”

“No, no, I thought it was... cute, or something,” Sousuke reassures him, catching his fingers and squeezing. Makoto smiles and bites his lip as Sousuke sits up and pecks his ear. “But don’t worry about that. I’m a lot better at stress management than my dad.”

“You work out too much,” Makoto points out as Sousuke wraps his arms around his neck. He takes a look at Sousuke’s bicep. As Sousuke flexes, it bulges, and Makoto laughs.

“It’s how I deal with stress.”

“Just don’t hurt yourself.”

“Are you kidding me? I’ve learned my lesson.”

As Makoto opens his mouth to speak, someone pounds on the door. Makoto squeaks and jumps, startled by the sudden noise.

“Are you two done making out yet? Can we _go?_ ” Rin yells through the door. Sousuke clicks his tongue.

“You’re so damn loud,” he chastises, managing to untangle himself from Makoto and stalk to the door. He wrenches it open, revealing Rin. The moment Sousuke shows himself, his face splits into a grin and he knees Sousuke’s thigh.

“C’mon. Let’s go out. Text Kisumi.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sousuke sighs. As he digs out his phone, Rin looks over Sousuke’s shoulder at Makoto and winks at him.

“Nice job luring out the dragon, _Prince Charming_.”

He says the last part in English and Makoto cocks his head in confusion, wracking his brain for the translation and coming up blank. He just smiles and pretends he knows what Rin just said, but Rin just laughs.

“Done,” Sousuke says. In a fraction of a second, his phone goes off. Making a face, he stares at the screen. “He says he’d love to go. I didn’t know he used so many emojis.”

“Did you expect anything less?”

“Not at all.”

\---

“Hey... _what do you call an acorn playing pretend? A fake-orn_.”

“...Nobody here is fluent in English, Rin.”

Makoto watches Sousuke roll his eyes as Rin falls over onto Kisumi and wheezes with laughter. They’re sitting on a long, sectioned couch in a small room with the lights down low and the coffee table cluttered with empty beer bottles and glasses. Makoto sits at the end, leaning against Sousuke with a beer tucked between his legs. Rin is in the middle, basically laying on top of Kisumi and occasionally ‘accidentally’ kicking Sousuke. Haru sits on the other end, mostly to himself, playing _Deep Sea Crossing: Mobile_ on his phone.

“Sousukeee, lighten up,” Kisumi sing-songs. He reaches his arms up to stretch, then lays them out on the back of the couch and puts his hand on Haru’s shoulder. Haru makes a face and smacks his arm away.

Barely any singing has actually taken place and they’re already a little tipsy. Rin sang a few but ended up getting embarrassed when he was the only one singing, and Makoto couldn’t even get through the verse of one song before trying to hide his face in Sousuke’s chest. So here they sit, the karaoke television still on and playing voiceless music as it highlights the words they aren’t singing.

They do, however, keep ordering booze.

“This is a waste of money,” Sousuke sighs, studying a bottle of flavored malt liquor and frowning at it. “And who ordered this? It looks too sweet.”

“Kisumi,” Haru deadpans. Kisumi smiles brightly, his cheeks and nose pink as he reaches out to take the bottle from Sousuke.

“Sour apple,” he says, waving the bottle back and forth. Sousuke grimaces.

“How can you stand something like that?”

“I’m magic.”

Rin bursts into a round of giggles again, his face down in Kisumi’s lap. Haru’s lips twitch, too, and it looks like it’s taking all of his effort not to laugh. Makoto nuzzles up beside Sousuke, gently elbowing him.

“Are you really mad about being out?” Makoto asks. His tongue feels a little heavy in his mouth.

“...No,” Sousuke admits. He takes one look at Makoto’s reddened face and half-lidded eyes and smirks. “You’re drunk.”

“A little,” Makoto says. He winks, or at least tries to. He knows it wasn’t very smooth when Sousuke finally smiles and laughs.

“Sousuke,” Rin suddenly says. Before Sousuke can even look over at him, Rin puts his foot on his left shoulder and pushes him closer to Makoto. “Quit being such a downer.”

“Well jeez, I’m _super_ sorry my dad had a stroke and my professor is taking forever to grade one of the most important exams of my life,” Sousuke bites. He scowls down at the alcohol in his hand before reaching out and setting it down a little too hard on the table. The _bang_ makes Makoto jump.  

“No one’s asking you to apologize, dude,” Rin says. He grunts, tries to sit up, and falls back on Kisumi’s lap. Kisumi carefully pushes him up into a sitting position. “We’re worried about you. Do you want to talk about it? I’m all for drunken therapy.”

Rin spins around and plops his head right into Sousuke’s lap, stretching out his legs to lay the over Kisumi’s thighs. Sousuke just huffs a sigh through his nose.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Sousuke mutters. “I’ll try to stop being down about this. Rin, every time you come to Tokyo, it ends up being a ‘therapy’ session for me, or something that has to do with me. You don’t have to come up here to fix my problems.”

“I’m your _best_ friend,” Rin says, making a hand gesture like it’s obvious and shaking his head. “It doesn’t bother me. I think about you non-stop when I’m down in Australia.”

“Gross. I have a boyfriend,” Sousuke says out of the corner of his mouth as he grins a little. Rin shoots out of his lap right away and grabs Sousuke’s ear.

“ _Fuck_ _you_ ,” he growls in English, making Sousuke laugh as he pulls on his ear. “I’m dead serious. You guys are what keep me going.”

“Don’t start crying,” Haru pipes up from his corner on the couch. Rin flushes red and whirls to face him.

“I’m not crying!”

Everyone laughs as Rin crosses his arms and sulks.

“You guys suck. I’m trying to be sincere.”

“I haven’t really been around long enough to know about everything that goes on,” Kisumi starts, tipping his half-empty bottle towards Sousuke and Makoto. “But I want you guys to be happy, too. Especially you, Makoto.”

He winks and Haru looks up from his game, squinting.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what, Haru?”

“Stop _that_.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kisumi hums, cheeky as the liquor he’s drinking. Makoto pretends not to notice when Sousuke puts his arm around his shoulders and squeezes possessively.

“But seriously. I just want you guys to be happy. All of you,” Kisumi says, his smile fading as he says it. “I think about you guys a lot, too.”

“It’s what we _all_ want for each other,” Makoto sighs. “And for ourselves. It’s just...”

“Life keeps sucker punching you and Sousuke in the face,” Rin finishes. “Like, before you can even recover from the last huge fucking catastrophe.”

“Well, there isn’t much we can do about it,” Sousuke says flatly. “Trust me. If I could take Makoto to the Antarctic, I would, but he’d--”

“That’d be too cold,” Makoto whines.

“—complain about the cold,” Sousuke finishes, giving Rin a look. Rin laughs.

“It’s going to get better,” Haru says quietly. Everyone looks to him as he lowers his phone and looks at them all. “I... it’d be nice if it was better _now_ , but it’s not. All we can do is stick together and keep on living until we get through it.”

As Haru finishes, he begins to look uncomfortable as everyone continues to stare at him.

“...What?”

“That’s beautiful, Haru,” Rin says, sounding sincere before he starts to smile. Haru shoots him an icy look.

“Well, I meant it. When I went through that hard time at the end of high school, Makoto was there for me. And you. Rei and Nagisa and Gou, too. At that time all we could do was stick together until the end. It’s like a relay.”

“The relay of life,” Rin sighs. He leans back against the couch and shuts his eyes, grinning. “The biggest relay race ever.”

“God. Can you two go one minute without getting weird about water?” Sousuke groans.

“Hey, don’t shit on water philosophy, alright?” Rin snaps.

“Yeah,” Haru adds.

“I get enough from Haruka, acting like water is a religion.”

“It is.”

“...Anyway.”

“Does anyone else want to go swimming right now?” Makoto asks. Haru immediately perks up and starts grabbing at his clothes to take them off. Makoto cries, “No, Haru!”

Sousuke starts bellowing with laughter—the real kind of laughter in which he’s wheezing and trying to cover his face as it scrunches up. It’s infectious, and Makoto can’t help but fall over Sousuke and start laughing, too. Kisumi just looks nostalgic, and Rin amazed as Haru stands before them all in nothing but his swim trunks.

“Haru, are you self-aware at _all?_ ” Rin asks incredulously.

“I want to swim,” Haru announces, completely ignoring Rin’s question and crossing his arms indignantly. “Makoto said it, so we have to go.”

“The gym at the school is twenty-four hours and I can get you all in for free,” Sousuke says, still choking back laughter. “Holy shit, Haruka. I can’t believe you can take off your pants that fast. Th-that caught me off guard.”

He bows his head and pinches the bridge of his nose as he snort-laughs. Makoto smiles and looks up, catching Haru’s eye. He’s got a little smirk on his face.

“Let’s go,” he says, breaking eye contact and putting his most serious expression back on.

“Race me, Haru,” Rin says, standing and swinging an arm around Haru’s shoulders, making him stumble.

“Stop that. You’re heavy.”

“You feel like swimming, Sousuke?” Makoto asks, standing and helping Sousuke get up.

“Why the hell not?” Sousuke grunts. “It’ll help me get my mind off all this stuff, at least.”

“Hey, wait. Let’s take a picture,” Kisumi says, taking out his phone and standing up. “A cool one.”

“I don’t want Ran and Ren seeing me drunk,” Makoto says meekly.

“No, no... just... here, everyone put your pinkies together,” Kisumi says. Holding his phone in one hand, he reaches out with the other and extends his pinky. It takes a moment for everyone to catch on, but Rin hooks his pinky on Kisumi’s. Haru and Sousuke follow suit. Smiling, Makoto hooks his pinky last and watches as Kisumi lines up his phone to take a picture of their hands all together.

“This is pretty gay,” Sousuke comments.

“Shut up, Sousuke, you’re already gay,” Rin drawls.

“I’m _bi_ , idiot.”

“Everybody say ‘life relay’!”

“ _Cheese!_ ” “Rin, you aren’t impressing anyone with your English.” “Can we go swimming now?” “Life relay!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta credit for this chapter goes to my dear friend, [Nicole](http://syniio.tumblr.com).
> 
> Resources (tumblr links):  
> [Author's Personal Blog](http://porrimicide.tumblr.com) || [Chapter Update Tag](http://tumblr.com/tagged/fefskyupdates) || [Commentary and News Tag](http://tumblr.com/tagged/fefsky) || [Fanart](http://porrimicide.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart)  
> 


End file.
